Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters

Cuyler:

Nothing had changed. Not her posture, not her expression or the pitch in her breathing, and yet she was different. I knew it from the moment her eyes reopened, had felt it like you feel an approaching storm. Building in the air, tense and inescapable.

I held my breath as she turned, still cradling the witchfire orb in her hands, and when she took a step toward me I fell to my knees in reverence.

That was the same moment the power of the witchfire bled from my veins, leaving me behind; hollow and cold. It now flickered in her eyes, as my mind ached with loss.

Why?- I wanted to gasp, but I could hardly keep myself up right. It didn't matter that the word never formed, she answered.

"You desired yourself a crown, believed yourself worthy of standing atop the rest and the witchfire saw the chance to stand above the masses with you." Orihime ran the tip of her finger down my downturned cheek, nails sharp. "It showed you the path, moves and countermoves across the chessboard. Shifting the Queen onward before you, to shield from pawns and knights alike. Striking and bleeding until only one king remained, and if it brought the Queen to ruin- so be it." Those nails broke skin as her fingers wrapped around my throat. "But you are still too new to this game, false king. You should know, that the only way to win is to cheat."

My lungs burned, but not a single finger lifted to remove her grip, all that strength, power, glory- simply gone.

"You promised it a kingdom but I will give it the world."

Just then- a knock at the door. I knew it was the only thing that stopped her from ripping out my throat.

She released me, turning to admire the witchfire still in her hand. "Answer it."

Rising on wobbly legs I made my way toward the door, stumbling twice on the way. I opened it, leaning my weight against the frame.

The soldier looked me up and down before taking half a step forward, tone low he said, "News from the mountains, sir."

Backing up a step, I motioned him forward and he slid into the room. He watched me for half a moment, his hands half raised as if he might help steady me- I thought it had been the room that was spinning but maybe that was just my vision.

"You don't look well," He said.

I couldn't look as poorly as I felt, "I-"

His attention moved over my shoulder and his arms dropped back to his sides. A steady breath relaxed his form, and only then did I realize there had been two men guarding the door, that this man should not have been able to knock.

"Gods, Princess, you're a sight for sore eyes."

I turned my head slowly. Orihime stood in the doorway to my room, no sign of the orb. She stared at the man, expression blank but assessing. I braced myself for the viciousness to return, for her to turn murderous.

Neither came.

She simply looks him up and down, then says, "You hardly seem worth all the trouble."

His laugh is low and dark as he steps around me, "Your wit cuts just as deeply as I remember." he halts his approach, a room of distance still between them. "Your eyes have changed, though. What have you been getting mixed up with, Princess?"

His tone is condescending and I take a calculated wide step back, not wanting to be caught in her retaliation. I kept going until I had my back pressed to the farthest wall, merely a fly on the wall as they faced off.

But she only cocks her head slightly, "Tell me, Bellatorian trash, are you attracted to women with a likelihood to hurt you because your mommy never loved you? Or is it more to compensate for your own lack of masculinity."

Bellatorian? Could he be-?

Ichigo Kurosaki let out a laugh that overtook the room, it shook the tension in the air and vibrated across my skin. He seemed not at all deterred, his face alight with humor but I could see the shifting of something else just below the surface. I could not picture him until this moment. No matter how hard I'd tried, I could not imagine the type of man who could draw and hold Orihime's affection, until now.

The room felt too small to hold them both.

Ichigo pushed both hands into his pockets, and calmed his laughter enough to let out a breath, "You're lashing out because you're afraid. Don't worry, I won't hold it against you once I get you out of here."

A shadow of irritation flickered in her eyes, "What do I have to fear from you; a footnote of a man. Made to die."

He stepped forward, and despite her words she tensed.

"You're afraid because I remind you that you're human. That you can bleed and hope and break."

Her voice was gutted and wrong, "There will be nothing left of you for her to remember."

Ichigo continued as if she hadn't spoken, "You're afraid because I make you feel all the things you've tried so hard not to feel. And that it gives me the power to hurt you. "

Her body was shaking, her head lowered, I could not tell if it was in rage or restraint but when she spoke I could barely hear her, "Shut your mouth,"

But he only moved closer, "But I'm human too, Orihime, you can hurt me as easily as I can hurt you. I have just as much pride to lose, yet I'm still here. Doesn't that make us, at the very least, equals?"

Orihime's head snapped up, her eyes no longer the green of her family name, but black as the night sky, "I will feast on you!"

I slid down the wall, my legs no longer strong enough to bear my weight, but the man was not unnerved. He closed the rest of the space between them until they were nearly chest to chest.

And despite her appearance, Orihime did not strike out against him. She stayed, black gaze glowing in the firelight, rooted in place. With a strength I couldn't fathom, Ichigo did not buckle as he took the full brunt of her attention.

His hand came up to ghost across her jawline, and even I could see the bob of her throat as she swallowed. "Release the anger it feeds on, and it will have nothing left to claw onto. You do not have to be what you were before your trauma, and you do not have to live shadowed inside it. It is not something to overcome, it simply is. You are whole as you are, you always have been." He cradled her face in both hands, "There is still life left for you to live,"

His lips met hers with a force that nearly knocked her off her feet, and her hands reached up, and I thought for a moment they would claw into his neck but at the last moment they softened before tangling into his hair.

I felt the moment the witchfire lost its hold on her, felt it reach out for me so quickly it seared away my insides. My consciousness swayed, flowing and cascading, fleeting fast.

A memory of a little girl, covered in dirt and a wooden sword at her hip, looking up at me. She smiled, toothless and wide. I reached for her, but she faded.

And then I was gone.

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Oh, Ichigo how I missed you :')

Thank you for reading!