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"She will be coming today too, right?"
Ichigo could hear the excitement and the little teasing tone in her question, and he didn't know what to make of the latter, but he knew beforehand she would be excited.
Orihime was loved by his sisters as if they knew her like he knew her, as if she had always been a part of their lives. They grab her hands when she walks in and start talking over each other, eager to make her catch up with their school gossip, thrilled to hear all the little adventures of her adult life that they find fascinating.
As an older brother, and someone known to not be very openly affectionate, he understands his sisters learned to respect his space. Yet something inside him twists when he sees the way they braid her hair and how she laughs so openly with them, being so loud it hurts his ears, and he knew he would tell them to cool it down any other day but he can't now, he can't.
Because growing up was painful in an agonizing, measured, sedated way, and he has too much left unsaid for the sake of time he couldn't afford to lose. There were people to save and protect, there were the ghosts in the corner of his eyes and the weight of a sword on his back and also something a little heavier. And the rain, always the rain, always the noise on his window and cold wet cheeks that would surprise him every time because he wasn't sure what kind of hurt he was letting go of.
But there was also the laughter coming from the living room and the view of children running down the streets of his town and his papers with a maximum scores on it and commentary from his teachers. His phone would never stop buzzing and it was mostly something silly like a dumb Tatsuki selfie or something ordinary like his father reminding him to go home for the holiday.
There was Orihime, standing by the door of his room, looking just like she always did but with a new conviction to her words and actions that often baffled him.
"Yuzu and Karin fell asleep." She announced, leaning on his door frame. Her eyes were drowsy. She looked comfortable under the light, as if she lived there. Thought she was visiting so frequently, — more than any friend or family — her easefulness made sense.
"They were really tired. I guess you're too, you spent the whole day playing with them." He answered.
He hoped there was no bitterness in his voice, because while he did want to spend more time with her, he had assignments that he still hadn't finished and he wasn't the one who called her. Orihime was there yesterday, and the day before, and they talked about nothing important most of the time but it felt like making the type of memories that would comfort him when he was too old to know about blushes and butterflies that come with being too close but not close enough to someone you desperately want to...what? He himself couldn't find the words.
Yuzu made the invite saying she wanted help to bake a cake and it didn't go unnoticed how the whole day they barely stepped in the kitchen; at some time they played karaoke and later they ordered pizza which Orihime brought to him while he was writing his essay.
"I am, but I love being with them. They're the most precious girls." She smiled and he smiled back because that would never not be true; his sisters being sweet and Orihime loving people.
She yawned and squeezed her eyes shut, as if to drive the sleep away.
"You should rest, too."
"Yes, I was just about to get my bag—"
"You can sleep here if you want."
Her eyebrows rose and her mouth remain open in surprise, and then he became aware of his words and how forward it was because no matter how much time she spent there she never, ever slept in their house; but still he didn't want her to go.
"I don't want to impose. You don't need to take me home if you're tired, it's really okay!" She put her hands up waving him off, a flush crepting up her face.
A sudden sadness clouded his features when he understood she assumed he had asked because he didn't want to take her home, rather than because he wanted her to stay. He knew he had problems trying to communicate his wants, even trying to accept them, but for all the time they knew each other he thought he would be better at this.
"I don't mind taking you." He was sitting at his chair staring directly at her while she was standing up and somehow that made him even more apprehensive, but he didn't break eye contact when talking. "I just want you to stay."
"Ah." Her gaze was on him and she pursed her lips, a silence suddenly being settled and he was so nervous he couldn't open his mouth to break it.
"I don't have any other clothes." She leaned away from the door frame, fidgeting and avoiding his eyes. He was a little relieved she seemed as tense as he felt.
"You can borrow some from the girls?" It was a suggestion, but he didn't want to impose. He wanted her to stay only if she wanted.
"I don't think it will fit..." She bit her lip.
"You can wear some of my clothes?" He was glad his voice sounded normal. His heart was beating so fast he was afraid she could hear it.
"Oh." Her gaze was on him again, her eyes wide and she looked so gorgeous he wanted to get up just to touch her face. To see if she was real and if the words hanged above her head like it did with him, if she was just as scared of being something more than what they were used to being. If she even wanted to.
"Okay." She finally said.
Once she took a shower and changed to his clothes, everything remained awkward while they both pretended it wasn't. She was sitting on his bed and he was still typing on his computer, both not looking at each other and having a conversation too formal to their level of friendship.
"Hey." She called softly, and this time he did turn back to her, focusing on her face. You're so beautiful.
"Yeah?"
"Where will I sleep?"
"Right where you are." He nodded to his bed and she frowned.
"What? No, this —"
He could see her face getting red all over again.
"I will sleep on the floor. I'm used to it. I always sleep on the floor when it rains because the sound of the rain hitting the window bothers me." He struggled. "So it's fine, really."
"Are you sure? I don't mind sleeping on the floor either. I always did." She was pouting.
"I am." He laughed a little, because she was cute. "You can go to sleep if you want. And you can turn off the lights too, I'll just use my lamp."
"Okay." As if on cue, she yawned. "I'm not turning off the lights, and don't you dare do it." She pointed at him, jokingly. "But I will go to sleep and you should too."
"Okay." He laughed again. "I will make my bed here right after I send this email."
She was already putting her hair up and laying on his bed, pushing the covers with her legs and he felt his face getting hot. He was used to her being there, even on his bed, but never laying on it. Wearing his clothes. Going to sleep. He would be right next to her.
He closed his hands into fists and sighed. He was so weak. He couldn't stand to be this close but it hurt even more when she didn't come to visit. He liked having her around, he liked hearing her voice, he liked everything about her. He wanted to tell her that.
When he looked at her direction again, she was already sleeping. Her hair in a ponytail, her mouth semi open, her hands under her head. He could stare at her like a creep all night and he thinks he would still be surprised by her face the next day.
He got up, shaking his head to shake his thoughts away, and started making his bed on the floor. He didn't have the focus to do anything else but rest.
But he didn't. He didn't know what caused — or even if there was a special trigger to it — but he dreamt of a sword going through his body while a shadow took Yuzu away. He couldn't move, as if the sword pierced not only his chest but also the ground beneath him. He could hear her screaming. He could see as she became a blurry figure, and his hands were digging the earth as like it would do anything.
He woke up as if he had been drowning. He though maybe he was screaming because his throat was burning but he couldn't hear anything. Maybe he was drowning. He couldn't see where he was even with his eyes wide open. His body was weightless and his mind was racing with incomprehensible thoughs and he considered the possibility of him going insane.
He startled when he felt two fingers close around his own, holding on. He turned his body to find a pair of sorrowful hazel eyes staring at him.
Orihime.
He squeezed her fingers. He was panting, he was cold all over, which made him think of drowning again. Drowning on wet earth with his sister's screams on his ears and a sword through his chest.
"Ichigo."
Her voice shook him and he felt himself shaking. They were still holding each other's fingers, her up on his bed while he laid on the ground, her face lit up by the moonlight while he stayed in the darkness.
He couldn't answer at that moment — maybe he ate the soil when he fell with the weight of the sword — so he stared at her eyes, noticing how distressed she looked. She kept looking up and down his face, he wasn't even sure she could see him properly. He was probably just a shape, who woke her up by screaming and now was crushing her fingers and breathing heavily.
Please, don't be afraid of me.
He felt like crying and he doesn't remember ever crying in front of her, doesn't remember the last time he cried in front of anyone.
He broke down in a sob, that tried to disguised itself as a laugh, and he didn't even had the time to guard himself, to turn around and hide his shame; she was already sliding down to the ground, falling to his side, hands reaching to him. He felt vulnerable and scared, afraid of what it meant to be seen like this.
I can still be good. I can still be strong. I can still be brave. Allow me this.
"I'm sorry." He whispered.
"Shhh." She gently caressed his hair, her fingers brushing agaisnt his neck and giving him goosebumps. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Ichigo."
He didn't know he said it out loud. He was just sorry about a lot, apologetic towards a lot of people.
I'm sorry I'm crying. I'm sorry I'm pathetic. I'm sorry I can't protect everyone all the time. I'm sorry my mom died. I'm sorry you spent all those holidays alone and you struggled so much while I was too mad at the world to be more attentive. I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you. I'm sorry I want you so much. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it.
She dragged his head to rest under her chin, above her chest, and he would be embarrassed any other time but he was so tired. Her hand in his hair were making his eyes fall, and she was warm and soft and her voice was whispering something he couldn't quite understand but sounded to him at the time like a promise. A lullaby.
Being tired usually didn't mean sleep would come, but he was too safe and comfortable not to rest. He forgot about nightmares and words he had to write. Listening to her heartbeat and being trapped by her arm on his waist and the other on his hair, he melted into her.
When he woke up again, he couldn't open his eyes properly or even react to the noise of the door opening. He heard when Karin let out a quiet gasp, and the slow seconds it took to hear the door closing again and her saying something about how they should let him sleep more.
He couldn't afford to feel embarrassed or grateful, he buried his face in Orihime's hair and drowned in her warmth.