Redux

A dark chasm yawned open in the sky. Led by shinigami in black robes, a small group of humans emerged from the abyss.

She stood erect, body quivering at the rush of heat that hit her with full force after the frigidity of the void which had frozen to the bone. Grey eyes narrowed against the sun's harsh glare. Only birdsong and the wind whispering through the trees in the clearing permeated the tranquillity. It was a stark contrast to the cacophony of sounds which had shattered the heavy silence of the colourless world she had only just left behind.

She glanced about. Everything around her seemed so sharply defined, so vivid it was painful to behold. Her friends were looking around dazedly, blinking slowly as if they were dreaming. But this was far from fantasy to her. It was reality. Instead of entering a dream, she was waking from a nightmare. Just one more element was needed to make everything fall into place and complete the sense of release she was feeling; for her to be at peace once again. Her soul subconsciously searched, reaching out.

A light, warm breeze teased the ends of her auburn tresses, causing a unique but familiar scent to infuse her nostrils. A certain reiatsu pervaded her senses. Her pulse quickened. She broke into a run, coppery mane flying out behind her. Her friends' calls were lost on the wind. She did not register the surroundings as she rushed headlong; all that mattered was the presence she had sensed which thrummed through every fibre of her being. It seemed like an eternity since she had last felt it.

A flash of orange caught her eye up ahead. She slowed to a steadier pace as the figure came into view sitting on a rock. Her brow furrowed, confusion and doubt wavering her resolve. Something was different but she could not quite put her finger on it. She approached cautiously. What if this was an illusion? she wondered. Her mind playing tricks on her?

Unbidden, a name fell from hesitant, trembling lips: "I...Ichigo?"

Her breath caught at her slip up but it was too late. The head turned toward her. She paused in mid-step, hardly daring to hope, barely aware of her companions' presences nearby.

A curious brown gaze found hers through long orange locks tousled like windswept flame cascading down a tanned face.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Orihime..." the tone was one of surprise.

Tears filled her eyes. It was him. It was really him.

After he had left her on top of the dome of Las Noches in Hueco Mundo, she had been terrified he would never come back, that she would never see him again; so she had sent up endless, silent prayers for his safety. It was no wonder, especially since she had witnessed him die right before her very eyes.

But he was here now.

He was real.

He was alive.

The dizzying, swelling melange of overwhelming emotions nearly made her faint dead away on the spot. "I...I knew it was you," she breathed quietly. "Your hair was long...so I thought maybe I was seeing things. Thank goodness...thank goodness..." Her voice cracked.

His inquisitive gaze melted into tenderness. A gentle smile crossed his face. "Geez, what a face you're making, Orihime!" he chuckled softly. "I know my hair's a mess though."

Ichigo looked like he was about to say something more but was cut off.

Suddenly, he fell to his knees and collapsed to the ground. It was like his body had given out. Orihime sprinted frantically to his prone form, echoing the others' shouts of shock. He let out a scream of pure agony which tore at her heart.

Desperation spurring her on, she was the first to reach his side. The Rikka shot from her hairpins like bullets to form the healing shield of Souten Kisshun over the boy's writhing body. The various injuries he had sustained quickly disappeared under her ministrations but his cries of pain still filled the air. She could only look on helplessly as he curled up into a ball.

A sickening crack. Sharp screams. Deafening thud.

Memories of the last time he had suffered like this assaulted her, making her heart twist. She winced. Even more tears stung her eyes. It was like Hueco Mundo all over again. He was hurting badly and there was nothing she could do about it.

Your job is to shut your hole and watch the man who came to save you die. Nnoitra's cruel words resounded in her head.

I don't know what to do. I'm totally pathetic, such a failure. I'm so useless, she berated herself. I -

A particularly potent yell broke through her mental self-blame. Her eyes widened.

Ichigo!

Orihime shook her head furiously, banishing all negative notions from her mind. No. This time would be different. She could help him.

Slowly, she leaned forward and pulled his thrashing form toward her. She cradled his head and angled it so his pained gaze met hers. Her hand squeezed his. She massaged his scalp, smiling kindly down at him through her tears. The girl fervently hoped this would help ease it somewhat or in the very least make him feel a bit calmer.

To her dismay, his shouts only increased in volume. He seemed to become even paler and weaker than before. His skin glistened with sweat. His hair was plastered to his contorted face. He trembled so violently that she was scared he would have a seizure.

Choking back a sob, she carefully gathered him up into her arms. He squirmed in her embrace, racked with pain, fisting her tattered white dress. It was almost seemed as if he were clinging to her. Her hold tightened in response as he grasped the Arrancar uniform in a vice-grip. He buried his face in her shoulder in a futile attempt to stifle his moans but they came out only slightly muffled. She murmured quiet reassurances in his ear and ran her fingers through those long vivid locks, inwardly pleased to find they were as soft as they looked.

The glowing orange-gold dome above them grew brighter by the second. She was pouring every last ounce of reiatsu she could into it with all her might. It was in the hope that she could reject the event of him suffering and thus end the pain. She did not know its source but was certain that if she bathed everything of him in her power Souten Kisshun would locate the part which needed attention and remedy the situation. But whatever it was, it had to be serious because it was taking all of her strength and more merely maintaining the healing shield at its current level. It would not be long before she was running on empty, she noted, forcing herself to stay focussed when her head started to spin. She could not afford to pass out on Ichigo. Not when he was in such an awful state and she had the means to aid him.

Ichigo shakily raised his head. "Ori...hime..." he groaned out brokenly.

She caressed his cheek. "It's okay. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll fix this as quick as I can." She gave him a positive grin, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. I must stay strong. I have to...for his sake.

His concerned scowl told her he was not convinced but before he could react any further, he was overcome once again. Her eyes clamped shut against his grimaces and screams. She continued to stroke his hair. Her hand rubbed his stiff back. Orihime began to hum softly, a wordless melody her brother had once sung to her when she had had bad dreams or was scared or sad as a little girl. It steadied her nerves. It also seemed to be working on Ichigo for his shuddering gradually lessened and his agonised moans became quieter. His grip on her clothes slackened. She felt the rise and fall of his heaving chest as his feeble form leaned heavily against her.

She hushed his weak cries, rocking him slowly. "Just sleep, Ichigo," she soothed. "I'm here."

"But Orihime...I..." he croaked.

Her anxious expression silenced his objections. "You're tired and need your rest. You have been fighting long and hard...all for me." She cradled his face in her hands. "So please, let me bear the burden this time. Let me take care of you."

The tender, passionate tremor in her voice made his eyes widen slightly. "Alright then," he conceded in a coarse voice.

Her grey eyes shed grateful, relieved tears. "Thank you."

With a contented sigh, Ichigo relaxed in her arms. He nestled his face in the crook of her neck and closed his eyes.

Orihime resumed the calming tune; she continued to rock him back and forth even when his breathing had evened out, lulling him into a deeper sleep. She hid a loving smile as she discreetly dropped a kiss in his hair. He was so peaceful, a far cry from earlier and when he had been in Hueco Mundo. She found herself wondering about when he had last slept fitfully, knowing from her friends he had not caught a break since setting out to rescue her. It was only fitting then, she reasoned, that he did now. "Sleep well, Ichigo," she whispered. She felt his lips curve upward against her skin in response.

Ichigo rested undisturbed the whole way home, not mumbling or shifting once; even when they had to move or lift him. Orihime had been reluctant to let anyone but herself do so at first, not wanting to wake him up. This led to her carrying him with Santen Kesshun out of Soul Society and through the Dangai. When they reached the World of the Living, however, she relented at her friends' insistence to take a break and allowed him to be transferred to a litter. Although he was being conveyed by someone else, it did not stop her from staying close and sticking to his side like glue. She would not let him out of her sight for an instant.

Isshin advised them all to go home for some rest and to leave his son to him when they arrived at Kurosaki clinic. Everybody but Orihime agreed and did so. She politely declined. The man's bemusement became a knowing smile when he saw the look on her face; he invited her inside warmly. They set to work on Ichigo almost immediately. The household became a hive of activity. She kept herself busy and found the bustling, lively ethos of his family refreshing after the grim and dark atmosphere in Hueco Mundo. Their comical antics and hilarious jokes were so contagious, she even found herself joining in on the fun and laughing along with them. Her vivid imagination and ideas for strange scenarios when added to those of Isshin (and sometimes Yuzu's) made for some interesting reactions from the two twin sisters.

Orihime giggled at the thought as she dipped a sponge in warm soapy water and squeezed out the excess moisture. She shook out any drips. Lifting the sweat-soaked fringe, she wiped the perspiration from his brow and carefully cleaned away the caked-on dust, dirt and dried blood off his face. She traced his strong features and firm jaw affectionately. Her heart warmed at how calm and serene he looked; even his scowl had relaxed. It amused her that his face could retain such an expression even when he was asleep. She worked her way down from his countenance to his neck, shoulders and arms whilst Yuzu did his hair. Isshin and Karin, meanwhile, were taking off his socks and shoes removing the rest of his clothes. She had eagerly volunteered to help wash and change him, not wanting to see him in that torn, blood-stained shihakusho any longer. Goodness knew she had had more than her fair share of such a sight – especially when it occurred as result of him fighting for her.

She gently raised him into an upright position once Yuzu had rinsed his hair so the little girl could get started on scrubbing his back. Her attention returned to bathing the rest of him and she began sponging his toned upper body. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction and comfort (despite blushing brightly and her embarrassed and nervous squeaks at Isshin's playful jibes) giving him a sponge bath like that; it was as if she was helping cleanse not only the physical evidence of battle but the spiritual side tainting him too. Her fingers ran over the hard, rippling muscles of his abs absently, massaging, caressing.

"Nice move, Orihime."

Isshin's teasing chuckle snapped her back to reality and she snatched her hand away like she had been burned, mortified. "I-I'm so s-sorry, Mr. Ku-Kurosaki!" she stuttered. "P-Please f-forgive me." She hastily stammered out a string of profuse apologies.

The dark-haired man laughed merrily, waving them away. "No harm done," he remarked, patting her hand. "It's only natural after all. You should see the way my son looks at you. Boy, and there I was thinking he'd gone asexual..."

"H-Huh?" she spluttered, reddening.

"You're a fine, healthy young lady with great ass - "

Karin punched him squarely in the jaw. "Shut up, goat-face."

"Oh, Mother!" wailed Isshin dramatically. "Our offspring treats me like dirt and besmirches our noble heritage. Whatever should I do?"

Said daughter slugged him one. "Go die in a hole!"

In spite of feeling like her face was on fire, Orihime could not help but look down at Ichigo's father in concern as he tried to peel his face off the floor. "Is he alright?"

"Tch." Karin grunted. "He'll survive."

That night, despite their kind offers to sleep in the guest room, Orihime decided to stay with Ichigo. A spare futon had been laid out on the floor but she had yet to crawl beneath the covers. She sat at his bedside watching him sleep, deep in thought. Never had she counted on returning to the human world when she had left with the Arrancar on that fateful night, let alone this room of all places. Yet here she was again. It was almost exactly like before; the crescent moon's face peeking in through the window bathing the bed in silver, Ichigo resting peacefully, tranquil silence, her at his side. But this time round there was only one other presence in the room (Rukia sleeping in his cupboard) and she was not confessing her love, saying farewell to her world or dwelling on what could have been. Instead, she was showing her love, saying hello to her world and dwelling on what would be. She smiled. Welcome back, halcyon days. This time, she – and they – would be here to stay.

Ichigo did not get up all through the following day and night. Orihime was not worried though. He had been through a lot, not sleeping at all and using up all of his energy and more fighting to save her and Karakura Town. It was no wonder he slept like a log. He needed it.

Two days passed and he showed no signs of awakening. That was when she started getting concerned. Was he ill? Was he still injured somewhere? Had she done something wrong? Had her powers caused it? Was it something to do with his battles? Her barrage of questions made Isshin laugh and he reassured her that his son was simply very tired.

Those few days soon turned into a week. Orihime was desperately anxious by then to know what was wrong with him. At first, Isshin evaded her enquiries but such was her distress that he caved in shortly afterwards and explained. Ichigo was comatose. He had trained to harness a technique called the Final Getsuga Tenshou and then used its power against Aizen in battle in the form of the attack Mugetsu. But that power had come at a great cost; he had lost his shinigami powers and thus his hollow ones as a result. The first stage of loss had happened during his talk with her and the second had occurred on their way back to the World of the Living. The third stage was yet to come but nobody knew when that would be. He would then lose his boundless, powerful reiatsu and even his spiritual awareness.

"Oh no..." whispered Orihime, devastated. "Isn't there anything we can do?" Ichigo won't be able to see spiritual entities at all, let alone sense them. Plus, we won't be able to sense anything from him either. This is terrible!

Isshin shook his head.

"Isn't...there something I can do? Surely my powers can reject things like that."

The man sighed sadly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid not. Remember when you told me how hard you found it to spot what was causing his pain and ended using more or less all of your energy?"

She nodded, recalling how exhausted she had been afterwards. His serious brown eyes softened, reminding her startlingly of the look Ichigo had given her as she had cried in front of him after his battle against Byakuya. Ichigo truly did take after his father in some ways.

"That was because you were trying to reject the inevitable. Sometimes fate is fixed, Orihime. That's when it's known as destiny. Nothing in the universe could have changed the fact my son had chosen to go down the path of losing his powers...and that's because he did it of his own free will," he informed her, frowning as tears rolled down her cheeks. "This is the reason you were only able to reject his pain. Your power did affect the process of loss somewhat though because it stopped him from becoming unconscious straightaway from the agony (which should have happened) and made him fall asleep instead."

"So...I only slowed it down?" she sniffed.

He gave her a kind smile. "Not only that. Whilst Ichigo would have fallen asleep eventually because of what Souten Kisshun did, it would have been due to his body shutting down. You brought it about in a different way though, without your powers." He knelt down to her level, grasping her shoulders with both hands. "Don't you see? You helped him sleep of his own accord and that's why he looks so peaceful right now. He wouldn't be like that had it happened the other way. I bet you that when he wakes up he'll feel much better – like he's taken a long nap. It'll all be thanks to you."

She sniffled, wiping away her tears. "You're sure?" She searched his face with a wavering, watery smile.

His grin broadened. "Positive."

After that, Orihime rarely left Ichigo's side. She had to (to her disappointment) leave to go to school but the Kurosaki family let her stay over, knowing she wanted to be there for him when he awoke. She helped them take care of him whilst he lay in his coma. She and Rukia talked to him frequently. Uryuu, Chad, Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro and Renji visited when they could and also spoke to Ichigo.

Sometimes, when she was alone, she plucked up the courage to pour out her heart as well as express through actions how she felt about him. She knew he had neither heard nor felt her the last time she had done so so why not? It made her feel happier and lighter in the process. Maybe one day the time would come where she could do it when he was awake and could respond with honest answers.

"Orihime," a voice called faintly. "Orihime, wake up..." It sounded vaguely familiar.

She moaned, snuggling her face deeper into the quilt. It smelt heavenly. It smelled like him.

Somebody was shaking her shoulders. "Hey!"

"Mm?" Orihime blearily raised her head from his duvet. Rukia was standing beside her, grinning. She rubbed her eyes and covered a yawn. "Sorry. I must have dozed off again," she giggled sheepishly. A dreamy sigh. "He smells so nice..."

The short black-haired woman raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk on her face. Her blue eyes glinted wickedly. "Oh really?"

Orihime's hands shot to her mouth as the realisation hit her. She flushed scarlet.

Rukia laughed as she squealed and hid her face in shame. Uryuu and Chad silently watched the whole exchange, amused.

"Rukia!" the girl whined, pouting. "That was mean."

The female shinigami snickered. "What can I say? You're fun to tease."

The slight rustling of covers and a small groan made their gazes snap to the bed. Orihime leaned in close to see Ichigo's eyelids fluttering. An excited gasp escaped her as his eyes slowly opened.

"Ichigo!" she burst out, overjoyed.

There was an awkward pause as he sat up, blinking in confusion. "Huh? We're at my house?"

She went deep crimson, her hands flying to her flushed cheeks in consternation. I did it again. "Everyone's so calm," she squeaked. "Why did I have to scream like that? I'm so embarrassed..." She felt Rukia place a sympathetic hand on her hair and pat her head reassuringly as the shinigami brought him up to speed on what had happened in the month he had been out. It was a sisterly – almost motherly – gesture which eased her nerves.

Ichigo, to her surprise, was acting very calm about what he had heard and was easily taking it in his stride. She supposed it was as Isshin had explained – he had chosen that path and was therefore prepared to see it through even if it meant facing repercussions at the end. He said himself he had had a feeling something like this would happen. At least it wasn't completely unexpected for him, she thought and took solace in that fact. If he could deal with it then she would too. Him asking to go outside drew her from her thoughts and she meekly volunteered to help. Her tone of voice earned her a curious glance along with a bemused scowl which made her laugh nervously and colour a darker shade.

Putting his arm around her shoulders and placing hers about his waist, Orihime let him lean on her as she supported him across the hallway and down the stairs. She felt a rush of pride and love for being able to help him like this and him for allowing her to do so in the first place. A guy like him would not be used to being the one in need so it had to be hard to go against instinct and let someone else take over. The feel of his solid male grasp and his warm, hard body pressing into her combined with such close proximity had her heart pounding and sparks jolting up her arms. It felt like some kind of embrace; which technically it was, given how their arms were wrapped around one another.

"Orihime's been here the whole time," Rukia was saying, bringing her out of her daydream. "She was worried sick. She took care of you and refused to leave your bedside. We had to practically drag her to school." She threw the girl a sideways glance.

Orihime coughed self-consciously, taking a sudden intense interest in her shoes. She avoided his surprised stare.

"I see..." she heard the smile in his voice. His fingers grasped her chin and turned her head so her eyes had no choice but to meet his.

Having his face – not to mention his lips – scant inches from her own made the breath hitch in her throat. His warm, kind amber gaze (how she had missed it!) made her heart swell. His breath fanned across her skin as he told her in a low, husky voice laced with sincerity and gratitude, "Thank you, Orihime."

The tone sent shivers down her spine and her mind turned to mush. Restraining herself from melting into a puddle of happy goo in front of him, she flashed a cheerful grin. "You're welcome."

The senkaimon slid shut as Rukia's retreating figure vanished into white light. She's gone, Orihime thought, watching the gate disappear. Rukia's really gone. It all seemed so surreal. Surely it had only been months ago she and Ichigo had saved her and Tatsuki from Sora's hollow? One moment she was walking in and turning everything upside-down; the next she was walking out with everything the right way up again. It made no sense and –

She corrected herself. Actually, it did. Their worlds had collided but now they were parting ways and that was how it should be. They both belonged in different dimensions. But one element had changed irrevocably – their lives. The threads had been woven too tightly to come undone. No matter how normal things became or what happened after this, they would somehow meet again. Life and death had become one for all of them.

"Orihime."

She looked up at the sound of her name to see Ichigo extending his arm towards her. Nodding curtly, she jogged to his side and supported his fragile form once more. They slowly made their way back to the house. Their breaths rose as mist in the wintry air. Chad and Uryuu had already gone ahead and were inside; most likely eager to get out of the cold. Not that she blamed them. It was the start of December and a chill was beginning to set in. The roads and pavements were glistening with frost so it was somewhat slippery underfoot; she was careful to make sure he trod on patches free of ice.

Ichigo broke the silence. "I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you this earlier but I'm so glad you're safe. You're back where you belong." Immense relief was highly evident in his eyes as he gazed down at her. "No matter what anyone else says - from now on you're staying right here with me, okay?" His voice was firm.

The undercurrents of desperation in his tone surprised her. It appeared he was scared she would suddenly vanish. Her heart clenched. "Okay," she concurred.

He exhaled. "Good." His stare became stern. "I meant what I said. There will be no next time. I will always protect you."

The way his amber eyes smouldered into hers left no room for doubt. He was not promising to protect her whenever, he was promising to protect her forever. "Ichigo..." she breathed. She could hardly believe her ears. Her lips formed a heartfelt smile, joyful tears brimming over. "Thank you."

"No problem." He gave a chuckle that reverberated through his chest against her ear where she rested her head. Cupping her cheek, he smoothed away the rivulets.

Orihime's heart was beating so fast she feared it would burst from her breast. The imprint of his fingers lingered long after he pulled his hand away and left her with a tingling sensation that filled her from head to toe. She was giddy with delight and elation. She gasped when his hand touched hers, lightning bolts darting up her arm. The shock made her flinch. She felt him do the same.

Ichigo stared down at their linked hands, taken aback. "Whoa..." was his bewildered response. He shook his head, dismissing it for now and clearing his throat. "Anyway, there's something I want to ask you."

Orihime looked at him quizzically and dazzled him with a smile.

"Uh...um..." he faltered, averting his gaze. He swallowed hard. She could have sworn he coloured a faint scarlet hue.

"What is it, Ichigo?" she inquired brightly.

He let go of her hand to drag his fingers through his scruffy, short locks, meeting her eyes. "Do you want to see the screening of Bad Shield 2 with me? It's on the fifth of December. Mizuiro got me tickets."

She beamed. "I'd love to!" Then her grey eyes grew wide. "'With me?'" she repeated. "Are you...?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably beside her. "U-uh...yeah, I guess," he conceded shyly.

Her smile broadened. "Then my answer is still yes."

Ichigo relaxed and answered with a grin of his own. "Glad to hear it."

He rested his head atop hers and she held him closer. Together, they went inside.

This marked not only the start of their halcyon days redux but the rest of their lives as well.