Touched

Disclaimer: Creator Tite Kubo owns the manga and anime Bleach and its characters. No offense or infringement is intended.

A/N: Hi again! Hearing some interesting theories on what's going on with Tatsuki now that the gang has made it to the Spirit World. Well, let's delve a bit deeper, shall we? Ichigo had his introspective moment last chapter, this time it Tatsuki's turn- I just can't seem to help myself. Haha sorry guys! Please enjoy…

Chapter 4: Wilted

Shiba Inn, just after breakfast…

Tatsuki figured she'd made a clean getaway. After waiting a respectable time for post-meal chit-chat she'd discretely and politely excused herself from the table. She remembered muttering something believable about wanting to check on the still-sleeping boys and perhaps washing up.

She'd hoped to make a quick escape up to the room; however she'd only made it across the first floor to the bottom of the stairs before she'd had to slow down. Slightly winded, she leaned heavily against the banister- the two flights of stairs above her suddenly seemed daunting.

'What the hell's going on with me?' she wondered. She'd awakened in the morning well rested and in good spirits, cheerful even (and she wasn't usually one for cheerfulness). She couldn't explain the elated feeling she'd had at simply joining Orihime and the others for a meal. 'And breakfast- Jeez, what had happened there?' The first few bites of Orihime's crazy omelet had admittedly tasted delicious. The next few bites however, had tasted stranger and stranger- almost morphing as she chewed- until she found she couldn't really stomach any more of the odd concoction. She'd only made it through half of the bizarre meal before she'd had to politely shove it away. And her mood had seemed to sour with every bite; it had felt as though each passing minute bled her spirits until she could barely keep from frowning. By the time she was finished she felt an inexplicable chill of loneliness despite being surrounded by the same familiar faces she'd so eagerly joined before.

'Maybe I'm going crazy or something…' she mused. Nothing about the morning made much sense. She leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes. So tired. She could definitely go back to sleep. With any luck maybe she'd wake up in her own bed and this whole mess would have been a wacky dream…

"Hey Tats, there you are. Glad I caught you."

'Greeeeat…' The last person she really wanted to talk to right now. 'I dunno. Maybe I'm hearing things, too…' She slowly opened her eyes to a black-clad torso, '…or maybe not.'

"Ichigo, what's up?" she tried to sound casual.

He was standing right in front of her, inadvertently blocking her path to the stairs. Tatsuki was reminded of just how much taller Ichigo was- his head blocked out the chandelier casting him in shadow; in that moment it gave him a rather imposing silhouette. "I just wanted to… um… check on you, I guess. You looked a little pale in there just now…"

She had to admit it was kind of sweet and fairly direct given his avoidance over the past few months. Maybe he figured their screaming match on the roof last night (which she totally won) cleared the air for them. Or maybe he felt obligated to her after their unexpected lip-lock. More than anything, though, his timing just plainly sucked. "I'm fine, Ichigo. Just a little tired is all. Think I'm still adjusting to the spirit world or something. Just need some rest." 'Take a hint, dude.'

Apparently he wasn't a mind-reader. Instead he leaned a shoulder and hip against the wall next to her- still between her and the steps. His head tilted down towards her, "Yeah? You sure you're okay?"

He was uncomfortably close. Why did he have to lean in so close? Looking up to see just how close he was, Tatsuki made the mistake of looking into his eyes… and gulped. There it was- that soft yet somber gaze reserved for those exceedingly rare moments when they'd promised to take each other seriously. Except now there was something else mixed in, something gentle and expectant, almost…

Tatsuki looked away nervously, catching the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she muttered, pointedly avoiding eye contact in favor of glancing down at her foot wear (Jinta really had awful taste in sneakers, didn't he?).

Ichigo's voice sounded smooth in her ear, "Maybe because after what you've been through no one expects you to be 'fine', Tats. It's okay if you're not 'fine' yet. I just…" he paused, then huffed exasperatedly causing her spiky bangs to flutter a little. '…Definitely too close.'

He lowered his voice even though they both knew no one else was around, "…I know you. And I'm here if you need any help getting to 'fine'. You can be honest with me, Tats. Like we used to be. I miss…" she watched his fingers motion between the two of them, "…you know… us."

The pause that followed spoke volumes in its silence. In the span of a few seconds she had countless flashbacks of the two of them just hanging out and having fun as two best friends. Sitting on his or her floor with a perfectly good couch at their backs as they played video games or did their homework together. Wisecracking with him between classes under the guise of bickering. Staying late at the dojo for just one more bone-jarring match. Whispering into the phone under the covers long after they were both supposed to be asleep. They all culminated in the image of being cradled in his arms on that rooftop, staring at his lips as she finally decided she would kiss him…

She dismissed the memory, laughing nervously, "You mean Ishida and Chad don't have game like me at Halo and Final Fantasy?"

She heard him chuckle low in his chest as he answered, "Not even close. And Orihime refuses to kick my ass in sparring matches no matter how much I ask her, though Renji has generously offered his services in that department. Of course, it takes nothing for Rukia to call me horrible names or hit me, so no worries there…"

"Glad to see I'm not totally replaceable," she smiled to herself as she slowly looked up toward his face.

Ichigo's eyes were waiting, capturing hers with an uncanny magnetism. She blinked rapidly, somewhat startled by the intensity of his gaze. The corner of his lips quirked into the shadow of a smirk. "Never happen," he said pointedly, and there was absolutely no room to doubt his sincerity.

She flushed, 'Is it hot in here? Why is it so damn hot all of a sudden?' The bulky top she was wearing felt uncomfortably warm just now. His hoodie. She probably should have left it up in the room this morning but it had been so comfortable. Something about the oversized fit, the too-long sleeves, somehow made her feel shielded and safe. It even still smelled like him…

Tatsuki was blushing to herself when she noticed Ichigo's eyes trail down past her chin. Before she could really register what was happening he'd reached a hand out towards her chest. She instinctively flinched, but he only fingered the zipper of the hoodie, tugging the collar to the side to reveal some of her bare neck. "Just seeing for myself. Looks like your wounds are healed," he said. Then he frowned a little, muttering, "…at least the ones on the outside, anyway…"

The middle of her chest clenched at his words. He did know her, knew her all too well. And he was definitely too close, his taller form bent over her as his fingers still gently tugged at her collar. And he was still wearing that damn Shinigami uniform that somehow made him look all kinds of rugged and handsome. Something just under her skin tingled and itched, longing to reach out and just touch him- his hand or his face, or perhaps that long stretch of torso peeking out of his uwagi. Yet, another part of her inexplicably demanded as much distance between them as she could manage, as though contact might spell some bizarre sort of disaster.

With a heavy breath she took a decisive step to the side, sliding against the wall and out of his reach, her clothing sliding out of his light grasp. "I, um…" Tatsuki's legs felt like jelly but she kept them straight, circling around him to reach the stairs. Mustering as much strength as she could manage she straightened her spine, fixing him with a stern look, "I'm gonna say it one more time- I'm fine."

Startled by her smooth escape, Ichigo opened his mouth to say something. But then he closed it, sighing resignedly; he gave her a single silent nod instead. Her resolve softened a little, "But… I remember, too," she added, and caught the flash of hope that flitted across his face, "And I, um… appreciate…" she made a familiar motion between them with her fingers, "…you know… this… okay?"

He gave her the hint of a smile, nodding his acceptance, "Okay, Tats. Just… remember what I said?"

She gave him a half-hearted smile that didn't fool either of them, and then hastily turned away before either could change their minds. Strength practically drained, she trudged up the stairs on will-power alone, her small feet as heavy as cement blocks. They were almost as heavy as the weight of his gaze on her retreating back.

A bit earlier, upstairs…

Mizuiro knocked gently on the door to Keigo's room. Waiting a few seconds and hearing no response, he knocked louder. Still nothing. He tried to whisper through the door, "Keigo? Keigo, you in there?" Some muffled indiscernible response issued from inside, and he took that as an invitation to try the knob.

Finding it open, he poked his head inside and immediately caught sight of his school friend sprawled sideways across his bedroll. "Keigo, are you still sleeping?"

A brown head turned towards the door and Mizuiro could see that his friend's eyes were open, his face fixed in a pout. The teen answered, "No, I'm awake. Just didn't feel like getting up." Then he rolled over onto his back, rubbing his face vigorously with his hands, "Chad and Renji left a while ago. Breakfast, I guess."

Mizuiro slipped into the room closing the door behind him. "Yeah, Ichigo and Uryu, too. They told me to take my time," he plopped down at the foot of Keigo's bedroll, "But I wasn't really in a hurry to leave. Renji came by our room and mentioned you were still sleeping, so I just stayed in bed, too."

Keigo propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his friend, "Dude, something's eatin' at you, isn't it?" When Mizuiro only sighed in answer, the brunet sat up all the way and crossed his legs. "What's wrong, Mizuiro?"

The boy shrugged, "I just… I had trouble sleeping last night. I had a nightmare. Well, actually a few. About those monsters that came after us."

"Yeah, I hear ya, dude. I was totally freaked out," Keigo nodded knowingly.

The darker haired teen absently fingered a wrinkle in the bed sheet, "I keep thinking about what might have happened if Renji and Ishida hadn't shown up…"

"Man, I guess we would have been goners," his friend shrugged.

He shook his head adamantly, "But that's just it- I don't think they were there to kill us! I think they were there to capture us! Look at Tatsuki- she was kidnapped! She was being taken someplace else."

Keigo raised a curious eyebrow, "Dude, how do you know that?"

"Well… I overheard Uryu and Ichigo whispering last night. The monsters are called 'Arrancar'. Ichigo said they were from some place called Hueco Mundo."

"Where the hell is that? I've never heard of it. Is it south of Karakura?" the groggy teen asked, scratching his head.

Mizuiro rolled his eyes, "No Keigo, I think it's in another dimension- like this place. I think it might be where the Hollows come from."

"Huh. Urahara never said anything about a 'Hueco Mundo'," Keigo mused.

"That's exactly what I'm saying! Urahara may have explained some things- parts of the big picture- but we're still in the dark about so much of this!" When all he got was a clueless look from the brunet, Mizuiro sighed exasperatedly before trying again, "Think about it- all of these things happening so fast, out of the blue? Keigo, one minute we're going to the store for snacks and magazines… next thing we're being hunted by monsters? I mean, why? Why would they want us?"

Keigo shrugged, "Maybe they thought we're like the others? Maybe they got us mixed up," then he smirked, "Maybe they thought you were Orihime and I was Chad? Dude, I dunno! I'm just glad we're still in one piece."

Mizuiro stared blankly at his friend, eyebrow raising inquisitively, "We travelled through a sucking vortex to an alternate dimension of Spirits with our missing classmates, undead Soul Reapers and a talking cat… and you're just glad we're in one piece?"

"Hmm… yeah, guess so."

The quiet teen couldn't take it anymore. "Keigo, why are you of all people so calm right now?" he screeched.

"Oh. Well… I did most of my freaking out yesterday. I passed out three times…" Keigo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Or was it four…?"

Mizuiro shook his head in disbelief, "So… now you're fine?"

"Pssht! Naaah! But I'm doing a hell of a lot better than Tatsuki," and both boys groaned at the mention of their mutual friend. "Did you see her at the shop? If looks could kill, we wouldn't have needed a portal to get to the Spirit World! Jeez!"

"I just hope Orihime fixed her up like she fixed me," Mizuiro added thoughtfully. Then he glanced around the room, "You know, we should probably change the subject- remember she has a way of showing up right when we're talking about her…"

As if on cue, three quick knocks sounded on the door, instantly followed by a dark spiky head poking its way inside. Seeing the two of them just sitting there, Tatsuki barked, "Hey chuckleheads! What're you still doin' up here? Get yer butts downstairs- chow time."

Mizuiro jumped in shock, a guilty look plastered all over his face, "Oh, uh… Hi Tatsuki!"

She frowned, narrowing suspicious eyes at the pair, "I'm not gonna ask what you two have been up to in here. Everyone else is downstairs in the kitchen enjoying a nice breakfast. Don't you want something to eat?" When Keigo simply shot her a meaningful look the surly tomboy sighed in the doorway, rolling her eyes, "Omelets."

The brunet perked up immediately, "Damn it woman, why didn't you start with that? Let's go, Mizuiro. Tatsuki, you comin' with?"

She made a face, "Already ate. You two are on your own," and before they could ask her what she meant she'd ducked back out of sight.

"Yeah, that wasn't weird at all," Mizuiro quipped. "At least she's talking to us today."

Keigo was already getting to his feet, "Our lovely little ninja handful. She seems fine. Come on, dude- there's some eggs downstairs with our names on 'em!" and Mizuiro had to scramble to catch up.

In the girls' room…

She'd planned on washing up once upstairs, but by the time Tatsuki hit her own room she was deliriously exhausted. Trudging inside, her bedroll looked more inviting than anything she'd ever seen. As she collapsed onto the pillow, her eyes drifted shut of their own accord. A short nap… she figured that's all she needed.

Of course, despite her fatigue, her traitorous mind pushed certain memorable moments to the forefront. She now officially had a phobia about things touching her throat- though not one for jewelry anyway, after last night's encounter with that clawed demon she doubted she'd ever have the inclination to wear a necklace again. And she probably wouldn't be sky-diving any time soon. However, compared to what was really occupying her thoughts, those small matters took a back seat.

Ichigo. Shit.

Sporadic infatuations with an old friend and classmate were one thing, but this…

From the time they became regular sparring partners in karate she'd taken a liking to the strange, goofy little boy. Okay, fine. As he grew taller and stronger she'd developed a distinct appreciation for his particular physical attributes. So what? The day that he'd managed to beat her in a sparring match, though, was the day she pretty much fell for him. Uh-oh. From time to time other boys would catch her interest, but ultimately her likings always seemed to stray back to the orange-headed wonder.

Of course, she'd never told him. Hell, she'd never told anyone- not even Orihime, even after they'd become bestest-best friends, especially once she'd learned of the lovely girl's crush on him. Such traitorous and mushy feelings were better left unspoken and tucked back into the tightest, tiniest corner of her mind where they wouldn't get her into trouble. Assassinations of epic friendships for the slim risk of reciprocated feelings were better left to sappy manga and television shows.

In hindsight, it had been so easy to hate Ichigo for a while. Her anger, while completely justified, had been a convenient distraction from her disorienting feelings towards him. They were supposed to be friends, yet once things had gotten scary he'd cut her out without so much as a 'fuck you'. It was as if he'd thrown their friendship in the trash- that had been plenty enough reason for her to despise the asshole!

But then that freaky vampire-incarnation had to go and snatch her right off the damn street! She'd been fucking kidnapped?~! Seriously?~!~? Not to mention choked into unconsciousness, after which at some point she'd been dropped. And when she finally came to- freefalling- who should be there slaying her abductor but the very person toward which all that aggression had been directed at in the first place! And damn it if he wasn't totally and epically kicking ass!

What the hell was she supposed to do with that? Under such circumstances how was she expected to act like a normal sane person? How was she supposed to stay pissed at him when he was effortlessly demolishing the monster that had reduced her to a quivering mute? How was she supposed to react when he looked at her like that?

The intensity had been eerie, as if he'd been trying to look through her eyes into her soul. Even without words, she knew. Knew from that look. Knew from years and years of knowing him, yet perhaps finally seeing him for the first time. He wasn't going to let her die.

Despite the pavement racing up to meet her, he'd snatched her to safety. Before she'd passed out again, she remembered looking up at one of his rare smiles from the embrace of his arms- very strong arms that hadn't been around her in a very long time. She remembered thinking that he hadn't smiled like that in a long time either.

She probably should have left well enough alone. He'd already saved her life- for most people that would have been enough. But no, once she'd regained consciousness she was haunted by so many unanswered questions, so much mysterious uncertainty. And so with the departure of her last vestiges of sanity she'd picked a fight with her best friend and super-human Shinigami rescuer in the middle of a damn roof. Brilliant.

And yet he'd been patient and understanding. Ichigo had told her he'd only been trying to protect her. He'd told her that the cold distance had been part of his noble (if not grossly ill-conceived) plan. He cared more about keeping her safe- keeping her alive- than her hating him. He cared about her.

And just like that she'd gone from wanting to rip his damn head off to wanting to kiss his lips clean off his face. And for once her stupid brain had given in to her naïve impulses. Shit. Maybe she could call a do-over.

A dull throbbing had settled into Tatsuki's temples. The sunlight in the room was too bright, but she lacked the energy to get up and pull the curtains. Instead she settled for slinging her elbow across her eyes. Why wasn't she asleep yet, anyway?

Why didn't she realize right away that neither daikon nor raisins belonged anywhere near an omelet? And why did that idiot look so damn good in his Shinigami garb? Sure, black was pretty flattering on most people- that tattooed annoyance went from a curious blip in a school uniform to distractingly sizzling in those black robes last night… until he decided to feel her up, that is. Rukia had seemed somewhat taller. Even that sweet new guy at the breakfast table had been kinda cute…

…Aaaaand now I'm delirious. Awesome.

It was all in her head- the lingering looks, the gentleness in his tone… the concern in his eyes… the shadow of a smile on his lips… on his very kissable lips…

A cloud must have passed over the sun because the room darkened a turn, reminding her of her fatigue. Her brain was so tired; she wished it would just shut off for a little while…

By turns Tatsuki finally fell into a deep slumber and dreamt- of giant swords and glowing serpent's eyes, of talking cats and wily men in striped bucket hats. By turn the dreams grew darker. After a while, she was falling…

That afternoon…

Uryu Ishida averted his eyes from Inoue's bottom as she climbed the stairs in front of him because he was a gentleman, and that is what gentlemen did.

She was chatting about something, tittering like a little bird whose every word inevitably blends into a light song. He was halfway listening- with Inoue one could still get the gist of the conversation even if only catching every third word. Truthfully he found he simply liked the light tone of her voice- it soothed him in a way that usually only Rachmaninoff could. In his otherwise staunch world he found her chaotic and exuberant spontaneity refreshing, like a bolt of shiny pink taffeta in a warehouse full of drab cotton blends.

As they reached the top of the stairs he could once again look at her face-to-face without the added distraction of the loss of eye contact. He realized he'd missed a bit more of her conversation than he'd meant to, "…And that was after the time she let me put makeup on her. She looked so cute! And I told her so- but she still wouldn't leave the apartment, not even to go to the boutique with me! But I kinda figured that. She's a very private person- she doesn't like to show off like that or draw attention to herself…"

He offered an appropriately timed 'Mm hm' that earned an approving smile. Then she commenced again, "I hope she's okay. I noticed that the omelet didn't go over as well as I'd hoped it would, but it couldn't have been that bad! I mean mine was just fine and we ate the same thing! Tatsuki has these times when she just wants to be left alone, but I don't think she'd mean to miss lunch. Thank you for coming with me to check on her, Uryu. You're such a good person."

He smiled to himself as she finally took a breath, giving him a chance to get a word in. "It's no trouble, Inoue. Arisawa and the boys had a frightening evening yesterday- it's natural that they'd need some time to adjust. And you said it yourself- Arisawa is a private person. However, I'm sure she'd appreciate being called for lunch, even if she happens to not be hungry. I'm sure she'll be glad you checked on her."

They finally reached the girls' room, stopping just outside the door.

"I just can't imagine that she's been cooped up in the room all this time…" Orihime opened the door carefully, announcing their presence, "Tatsuki? You in here? It's me, 'Hime. And I brought Uryu. We didn't want you to miss lunch…" she paused when there was no response. "Tatsuki?"

Uryu had hung back in the doorway, because that's what a gentleman did. After all, he wasn't going to barge into a woman's room- especially one he didn't know that well- without clear knowledge of her state of mind, or dress for that matter. However, fate forced his hand when he heard Inoue squeal, "Uryu! Come quick! Tatsuki's not waking up!"

In an instant he'd made his way into the room to find Inoue kneeling next to her best friend's bedroll. Despite being roughly shaken by the redhead, the dark-haired tomboy didn't respond. Crouching down beside her, he heard the fear in Inoue's voice, "Uryu, I don't think she's breathing! What's wrong with her?"

His mind switched immediately into clinical mode. After only a few seconds he realized that she was breathing, however neither deeply enough nor at an appropriate rate. Her skin appeared pale and clammy; she looked for all the world like a fresh corpse- something the young Quincy had unfortunately seen before. 'This isn't good…'

He turned to Inoue, who appeared as though she would spiral into hysterics. Grabbing her shoulder a bit too firmly he shook her to bring her attention back to him, "Inoue, look at me."

"But Uryu…"

He fixed serious eyes on the girl, "Inoue, Arisawa is alive but she needs help."

"But… wh-what do we do?"

"Inoue, you must find help- go get Hanataro. And Rukia or Renji if you can find them."

Her eyes widened before drifting back to her unconscious friend. He didn't have time to be gentle with her, "Inoue, NOW!"

Her eyes snapped back to his and she nodded. Then in a blink she fled from the room. He could hear her footfalls in the hall as she ran toward the steps calling out for help.

Turning his attention back to the unresponsive girl at his knees, he wondered if there was really anything he could do for her.

'Arisawa, what in the world could have happened to you?'

Uwagi: short kimono or top half of a martial arts uniform.

A/N: Alright! Another chap finished! And boy do I have some fun planned in the next one! The truth about Tatsuki's 'condition' finally comes out- how will this affect their trip to Soul Society? Well you'll just have to come back and see. ^_^ Thanks to all who have reviewed the previous chapters!