Title: Radiance
Author/Artist: T’Pau Silver (Silvey)
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Orihime/Tatsuki
Rating: PG-13 (non-graphic description of sex)
Warnings: past character death
Request: Radiance/The clinging.
Summary: And Orihime finally let herself cry.

Entry for Yuri_challenge 2007 - second round.


All around her was black. She was drifting, cut of. Her eyes were open but they may as well be closed. She didn’t breath, but it didn’t matter. Her arms and legs were spread and she was naked but here in the darkness there was no embarrassment and she felt no need to cover herself. Here in the darkness no-one could see her shame. She knew she should panic, she knew this dream well, she knew it should be a nightmares, but all she could do was drift there, uncaring.

Time passed, maybe it didn’t. She was calm. She didn’t remember, she wasn’t curious, the same song just ran through her head again and again. A nursery rhyme from her childhood. She couldn’t remember it’s significance but it didn’t seem to matter.

Presently, she thought she should try to breath, should wake up. It didn’t seem important though. She knew this wasn’t death, she had seen death before in too many facets. This was trying to look like death but it wasn’t.

But, still, she should do something. She knew. Slowly she opened her lips and began softly to sing the song inside her head. The sound didn’t echo, it just carried on and on into the darkness.

Then she woke up.

~*~*~*~

Orihime woke up slowly. The alarm was blearing from the bedside table but she couldn’t seem to find the strength to move. Her lips moved automatically, mouthing the lines to the nursery rhyme, but she didn’t say them. She knew if she said them something special would be broken.

The alarm clock stopped ringing and she looked over at it again, curiously. It stopped after ten minutes. It would wait five minutes, then it would start to ring again. She didn’t mind, there was nobody in the house to disturb but herself. She’d lived alone for so long now. Still, it wasn’t good to stay in bed all day, there were things to be attended to.

The floor of her apartment was wooden. The saleswoman had assured her it was all the rage and so very practical. So easy to clean. The saleswomen had failed to mention how cold it was on the feet, but Orihime was glad for that. It helped to ground her, putting her feet on the cold floor every morning. She didn’t have slippers for that very purpose.

She reached over and disabled the alarm on her clock, then she picked up the diary and flicked it open to today. Like she could forget what day today was, but habit was habit.

The day started.

~*~*~*~

She clicked her cell phone shut efficiently and slipped in into her purse. She’s booked the day of months ago, but it was the only holiday she’d had that year, it was the same every year she’d worked there, so sometimes they forget, and she was vital to the operation by now. Her secretary had been very nice and efficient about it, reassuring her that the work was done for the day. She was a good girl.

The jeans and t-shirt felt so odd after so long. She’d had to buy the jeans specially. For work, she wore suits. Every day. It was only professional. She worked seven days a week, so she had no need for casual clothes, but the arrangement was casual. The jeans were a little too large, she hadn’t had time to try them on in the shop and had apparently lost weight since the last time she’d bought any.

The t-shirt was the same as always, the one Ishida-kun made for her all those years ago. There had been alterations since then, as she grew, but it was still basically the same shirt.

The train pulled into the station and she rushed to get on.

The journey began.

~*~*~*~

When she finally reached the grave site she was glad to see that she wasn’t the first on there. Renji was already sat on the grave. At first Orihime had been shocked by this kind of disrespect, but she’d grown to be used to it. After all, Renji had a good reason to be dismissive of death. Though the souls there graves had witnessed had suffered a different kind of death, that would never pass through soul society.

Chad arrived soon after, he was as quiet as usual, though oddly well now. Ichigo’s family were close behind him. They were the only ones still left in Kurakura town, so she guessed it was only natural they banded together at a time like this.

There were two graves besides each other. Of course, there were other graves, but these were the only two on earth. There was an entire monument in soul society, where there was a large festival every year on the date that war had been officially declared won. That date wouldn’t be for two months yet, when the final cells of resistance were crushed and gave up. The real war had been long over then, though.

One of the graves was for Ishida Uryu, the other for Kurosaki Ichigo.

Of course, they had not died together, Ishida had been dead for a month before Ichigo, and Ichigo died two weeks before the date they gathered, this wasn’t the anniversary of the death, this was the anniversary of the date they buried them.

A small crowd soon gathered. Orihime put her mask on and lost herself in it. She drank the beer Keigo bought. She reminisced loudly with Rukia about the hard training they’d been through, she made it look for the entire world like there wasn’t a gash in her heart a mile long.

People had told her when Ichigo died that she’d recover, that she’d love again. She knew she should. She knew that, despite how people tried to console her and tell her they’d never know for certain, Ichigo has never returned her feelings. It was never so easy though. You didn’t learn to copy, you just learnt to act like you could.

She’d thought loosing her brother would be the most painful loss of her life, but she’d been wrong.

Tatsuki arrived late. It seemed appropriate, somehow. She hadn’t been drawn into the war until near the end, her role had been periphery at the best. Nobody begrudged her the graveside visit though. They avoided each other.

As evening began to roll in, the festivities began to die down. They had the party every year as it was how the men would want to be remembered, for their strength and valour and brave deeds and the fights they had won, not for the one fight they had paid the ultimate price to win. They would wish to be celebrated, not mourned.

Eventually, Ichigo’s dad stood up, as he always did. It was the sign, the sign that it was almost over again for another year.

“It’s been ten years now,” he said, his voice still as clear and full of pain as it had been the first time. “Let us never forget, and let us live our lives how they’d want us to. To Ichigo and Ishida!”

The crowd roared and downed their drinks. Orihime’s voice was with them, but inside she hit a well. Ten tears. It had been ten years. How had she survived? It barely seemed like a year had passed since she’d help him for the last time, but it was ten years since they put his body in the ground.

Since the black place had opened up inside her.

~*~*~*~

The train station was almost deserted so she was no trouble finding a bench by her platform and sitting down. The pleasant buzz from the alcohol was beginning to fade and soon all that would be left was the darkness. She clutched her bag in her lap and stared ahead.

Footsteps approached, then stopped. Orihime looked up to find Tatsuki looking at her. The other woman had changed, but Orihime had changed too. Tatsuki now wore her hair long, to the middle of her back. She had put on some weight, not much but it gave her a plump, rounded look. It softened her. Orihime had cut her hair just below her ears. She did it to forget, but it hadn’t worked and it was more practical that way so she’d kept it.

The silence grew.

During the war, thought Tatsuki had come in late, she’d been braver, better, then Orihime had ever been. She battled endlessly, pushed herself to her limit at every moment, and she did what Orihime had never been able to do and confessed to the person she loved.

Orihime’s only excuse was that at the time her heart had ached so much that all she knew how to do was hurt. She had laughed. When Tatsuki, her dearest friend, had looked her in the eyes and told her she loved her, all Orihime knew how to do was hurt her. She knew her words were like daggers, the laughter that had fallen from her lips like the echo in the tomb, but she couldn’t help it, not then.

She had regretted it ever since. Every time she thought about it she felt a stab in her chest, another dagger making the wound there larger. She just wished she would finally bleed out and die. She felt like she was close, sometimes, but her body always seemed to labour on.

Her eyes locked with Tatsuki’s. There was no hatred there, just understanding. She didn’t know why but she reached out, laying a hand on Tatsuki’s arm. Then she knew it was set. She took her to bed.

~*~*~*~

Tatsuki’s body was soft and welcoming. Her skin was like satin under Orihime’s fingers, but her hands were sure and firm and hard working. She took command of the situation easily, and Orihime found, if it was her, she could let go. Her lips tasted of cherry and Orihime was hungry for her kisses. The surprise of the soft sweetness drew her in again and again. She had never known a kiss to taste so good.

With every touch of her hand Tatsuki forgave Orihime. With every kiss she loved her. Orihime knew there was no way she could repay that, not yet when she was still so broken, but the longer they stayed the longer she felt she wanted to try.

The way they made love was slow and careful. It was full of whispered revelations and impossible promises, I will be with you forever, I have always loved you, no-one will hurt you again. Orihime felt herself lifted up on a cloud of ecstasy, she let Tatsuki lift her, then let her hold her as she drifted down again.

Together they were beautiful.

~*~*~*~

The darkness was all around her, again. It was quiet, peaceful. The song ran through her head again and again, the same quiet comforting song. She knew it better then she knew anything else in the world. But there was something wrong here. It wasn’t as dark as she had thought it was, not as dark as it should be. There was a soft glow, a glow without a source. It was like the dawn, though only a faint dawn, and it came from every angle, and no angle, all at once.

It made her feel.

She felt afraid. She knew it should have been the dark that made her afraid, but she’d lived in the dark, drifting and hiding, for so long. The soft dawn was warm on her body and she became aware that she was naked, but didn’t feel the shame she thought she should.

Suddenly she tried to breath.

~*~*~*~

Orihime walk gasping for breath, the alarm clock was blairing out and for once it bothered her and she moved to stop it, but before she got there another arm reached out and hit it.

Slowly she came back into herself.

In reaching for the clock, she had pushed up from where she had been, but it was clear where she had spent the night, lying with her head on Tatsuki’s shoulder. Maybe that was why it had been so warm. She sat up letting the blankets fall away and was suddenly painfully aware of her nudity. She lifted her hands to cover herself, but them stopped and let them fall useless to her side. Tatsuki had already seen all of her the night before, there was no need to hide.

Tatsuki sat up, blinking sleepily, and smiled at Orihime, then lent forward and kissed her softly. Her breath was musty and the kiss tasted a little bad, but that only made it more real, more wonderful.

Then Tatsuki swung her legs over and put her feet on the floor. She made a little squeaking sound as her feet touched down and pulled them up quickly.

“Your floor’s so cold.”

“I’m sorry, we can get a rug.”

Then they both knew, like that, the words the night before weren’t empty like they’d thought they were. When Orihime asked not to be left, she meant it. When Tatsuki said I love you, she meant it.

Tatsuki smiled, a cautious smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

And Orihime finally let herself cry.