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Inoue Orihime had never wanted to hurt anyone.
Even then, a mere teenager dragged into a war she would not really understand until much, much later, she never wished harm on anyone.
I want to fight, she had said, and it had been true, of course it had been, but -
Fifteen, and she had never hurt anyone in her life. Always being protected, even from her own parents, and she had been so happy to heal her friends, but she had wanted to be more.
She had wanted to be their equal.
But this world had decided otherwise.
And then – years. Growing older, studying despite all the nightmares and memories she could not explain to any therapist, reading and reading to try and make sense of it all. She had no one to ask for help, not for something like this.
One day, Ichigo stayed to sleep over at her place, and she found out his nightmares kept him awake too – but that was fine. They could be awake together.
They understood each other.
Their world wasn't black and white anymore. Their close friends held their trust, and she was always so happy to see them at their door, but Orihime remembered the older Shinigami and the way they had looked at her, at Ichigo, like something wondrous and terrifying. Her hairpins were always with her, even when asleep.
Still, for all this world was a darker place than her younger self could have ever imagined, she was still happy, surrounded by her friends and the love of her life. This little world was worth it.
And then – a baby in her arms.
Their friends cooed over Kazui, whispering about how he looked just like Ichigo but oh, he has your smile Inoue, he’s so cute!
But adoring whispers weren't the only things surrounding them. She saw, how Urahara peered over his fan with a glint in his eyes, and for a brief moment, Orihime wondered what would happen should her powers reject this. She wondered what would happen should she reject someone’s powers, someone’s soul, someone’s very existence.
She remembered Aizen’s words, the whispers of divine in her ears, and for the first time since Hueco Mundo, she tried to remember what his exact words had been. What he had said she could be capable of.
She remembered how it felt, to reject injuries – I refuse it, I reject whatever hurt you, whenever it hurt you, and reality is nothing in front of my will, don’t you see?
She remembered how it felt, to reject reality itself.
My love, she thought, holding her son in her arms, my treasure.
Protect, protect, protect – and her barrier should have been enough, because Ichigo was a sword and she was a shield, but it was no longer enough. It was no longer just the both of them.
Once upon a time, Orihime had believed that all who helped her were good people. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore – this world made sure of it.
But that was okay. Orihime wasn’t a child desperate to save a world she didn't understand anymore.
She was a mother, and her world was in her arms, smiling and waving his tiny arms at her.
Orihime hummed, kissing Kazui’s forehead. She smiled when he giggled before putting him in his crib. A black butterfly landed on it, and her baby laughed.
Yes, her world was right there.
I will reject this world, should it dare to hurt you.
They had been so afraid of the one who reached for the throne in the sky.
They had never once looked down to see the being who would tear apart their world should they threaten hers.