Title :: Stronger
Setting :: Bleach
Characters :: Inoue Orihime, Zaraki Kenpachi. Incl. Yachiru, Ikkaku, Yumichika & Ishida.
Words :: 613
When :: During the Soul Society Arc.

"Oi. You're too slow."

Orihime looked up, still leaning on the wall and panting, pretending not to notice the sympathetic look Yumichika was shooting in her direction, nor the way both Ishida and Ikkaku were studying the far wall as though it contained all the secrets of the universe, just waiting to be deciphered by the one who stared at it long and hard enough. She suspected Ishida would claim victory over the thug from general principles, if she ever shared that particular mental image with him. But he'd smirk at Ikkaku until the third seat of the eleventh division broke the Quincy's skull from sheer annoyance, so there was another thought she'd be keeping to herself.

She did a lot of that, lately, she found.

"Aheh!" She smiled, focusing on the here and now trough the gasps for air, inwardly furious with herself for having tired out so quickly. "Sorry." The shield being fractured had drained her more than she'd imagine possible. And then all those healings. She should have been able to hold out, and do better. She really should have. She wasn't strong enough, it seemed. She clenched her teeth and swore to herself that this would change, that somehow she'd become stronger. Soon. Another breath of wonderful, precious air, which she held in for a moment, eyes half closed at the sheer pleasure of being able to breathe - it was even enough, for a brief instant, to overwhelm the shame and self-loathing at being so pathetically weak. "So sorry. I'll be fine, really. Just give me a moment. I'll get stronger." The last was said out loud rather than kept to herself, softly and full of determination, Orihime never realizing what she'd done.

Silence reigned for a moment, heavy and full of impatience, until Yachiru popped up from over Zaraki's shoulder. Her gaze flicked from Zaraki's face to Orihime's, back to Zaraki's - and then slightly lower, eyeing Orihime's generously heaving bosom. And then slowly back to Zaraki, with none of her habitual fondness. Yachiru had never been one to like sharing Zaraki's attention. Not one bit.

Zaraki's gaze shifted to the side suddenly as he felt Yachiru's reiatsu flare irritably, and his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. Everyone was so busy looking elsewhere that no one noticed it. Save Orihime, who had chanced to resume thinking just then, and had opened her eyes to apologize again.

Her eyes went wide as the looming death god looked back at her just as suddenly as he'd looked away, that slight smile still present. Before she could even blush properly, unsure why, there was nothing but a feeling of weightlessness and a startled squawk from Yachiru was the only thing that allowed Orihime to realize where she was.

"Oh! Oh no! No, I couldn't possibly," she half-laughed, half-stuttered, the audible gasps from both Ikkaku and Yumichika more than enough for her to catch on to exactly how unusual this was, never mind the way she could practically feel Yachiru's burning glare drilling a hole in the side of her head. It was, most definitely, time to play stupid again. "I'd be too heavy, really!"

"Che. Shuddap already and hang on, woman."

And with that, they were off, the cool wind calming her burning cheeks, Yachiru's reiatsu soon overwhelmed by Zaraki's.

It was, she thought faintly, nice and warm, under all the bloodthirstiness. That explained a lot, really. And there was another thought she'd not be sharing with anyone, any time soon. Orihime smiled to herself, secretly, and managed to keep from cheering out loud and demanding that Zaraki go faster.

Barely.

Seconds later, he sped up anyway.

Current Mood: amused