When her husband's reiatsu flared, Tatsuki woke instantly. Heart pounding, she sat up and grabbed her zanpakuto from the table by their bed, looking around for the source of danger. Her eyes fell on Ichigo, asleep, but with his aura crackling with energy.
Where is our enemy? her sword demanded eagerly.
Sorry, false alarm, Tatsuki answered mentally. Just the idiot having a nightmare again.
Oh, is that all? Don't you think you could check before you go waking me up? the zanpakuto asked irritably.
Tatsuki had to suppress a snicker. Her sword loved a good fight, but he hated being roused without a good reason. Old habit, she answered. Anyway, go back to sleep.
Hmph, it grunted, and then subsided.
Tatsuki set her zanpakuto gently back on its rack on the bedside table and turned her attention to Ichigo. He was sprawled across his side of the bed, illuminated softly in the moonlight from the window. His reiatsu was pulsing aggressively, but it wasn't too bad yet. She decided to let him slip back into deep sleep if he could—there was no point in waking him and forcing him to remember a dream he might otherwise forget.
She snuggled closer to him, her head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. Maybe it was stupid, but she always liked listening to his heart. It was tangible proof that he was alive, that they both made it through that awful time. Not without scars—no, certainly not without scars. Against her cheek, Tatsuki could feel the ever-so-slightly rough skin where a cero had once blown a hole in Ichigo's chest. Even Orihime hadn't been able to get rid of the scarring.
Ichigo's heart was starting to beat more quickly, and his reiatsu flares were getting stronger. If I don't wake him, he's going to start attracting Hollows. Again. And although her zanpakuto could use the exercise, cleaning up after a Hollow attack was always a pain.
Reluctantly, Tatsuki sat up and slid out of bed, slipping into slippers to protect her feet from the chilly floor. She walked around to the other side of the bed and moved the table on which Ichigo's sword away. Actually touching Zangetsu when Ichigo was feeling agitated was a bad idea (unless you had a death wish), but at least she could get him out of reach. Her husband had even more finely-tuned battle instincts than she did, so waking him up from a nightmare could be kind of dangerous.
She climbed back onto her side of the bed and shook Ichigo's arm gently. "Ichigo?" she said. "Wake up, Ichigo."
He responded with a dangerously strong burst of reiatsu. Tatsuki rolled her eyes and shook him more insistently. "Come on, idiot. Wake up," she said.
Ichigo suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, reaching for his zanpakuto. When he couldn't reach it, he tried to jump out of bed, but Tatsuki used one of her favorite karate moves to pin him down. "Ichigo!" she half-shouted. "Calm down! You're safe. It's all right!"
For a moment, his eyes gazed through her, glinting yellow, but then they subsided to their normal brown and she saw recognition register on his face. "Sorry, Tatsuki," he said. "You can let me up now."
Tatsuki let go of him immediately and sat back on her heels. Ichigo looked away from her in embarrassment. "You want anything?" she asked. "Cup of water?"
"I'm fine," Ichigo said, turning over onto his side and looking determinately at the wall.
Bad one this time, Tatsuki thought. Switching tactics, she said, "Well, now that you're awake, you're not getting away that easily. It's freezing in here. Share some of that body heat with your wife, will you?"
Ichigo snorted. "If you're so cold, why don't you just put on something a little warmer?" he complained, but he rolled over obligingly.
Tatsuki snuggled into his chest, her head under his chin, one of his arms under her head and the other surrounding her protectively. "I like this better, that's why," Tatsuki retorted.
She could feel his aura returning to normal, although she could still feel the tension in his arms. She waited patiently. Ichigo wasn't the kind of person who could be rushed—he was too proud for that. Tatsuki was just on the verge of falling back asleep when Ichigo said, "I was dreaming about that last day. About Keigo and Mizuiro."
Tatsuki winced. Those dreams were always the worst. "Should've protected them," he grunted.
"You know you couldn't," Tatsuki reminded him. "If you'd broken off your fight with Aizen then, everyone would have died."
"I know that," Ichigo said. "It's just…I keep seeing them over and over, like they were when…when I found them. Maybe if I'd been stronger…"
Ichigo's muscles were getting tenser, and Tatsuki could feel his aura hardening as it always did when he was angry with himself. She shrugged herself out of his arms and looked into his eyes seriously. "Look at me, Ichigo Kurosaki," she said "and tell me whether you could have fought any harder than you did that day. If you can honestly tell me you could have, I swear that I will take my own zanpakuto and run you through with it."
Ichigo's eyes met hers, filled with grief and pain, but he dropped them almost immediately. "I couldn't have," he admitted.
"Then it wasn't your fault," she said. Tatsuki sighed and looked at Zangetsu, glinting darkly in the moonlight. "I wish none of this had ever happened, but it did. As it is, they took their risks. So did I. So did we all. And they had shitty luck, but that happens sometimes."
Ichigo didn't answer, but his aura softened slightly.
Tatsuki continued, "I can't take away your memories, Ichigo, any more than you can take away mine." An image of her parents drifted through her mind, and Tatsuki swallowed quickly to get rid of the sudden lump in her throat. "But at least we can make a few new ones," she said.
Tatsuki lay down beside Ichigo and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Ichigo," she said. "And nothing—not war, not Hollows, and not even death is going to take that away from me."
They kissed then, passionately, fervently, and maybe a little desperately. Then they both fell asleep again, each wrapped in the others' arms.