Sakura woke with a start, unsure of where she was. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, memory came rushing back and she turned her head carefully to check on Yumichika. He was still sleeping, his breathing heavy. Gently, she checked his pulse. It was thready but regular enough, for now.

Silently, she slipped from the bed and went into the main room. It was pitch black outside now, and she leant to turn on a small lamp, its light falling across the table that rested before the ratty sofa. On it were two packaged ready-meals, and 4 juice boxes. Ikkaku must have returned sometime whilst she'd been asleep, only to leave for patrol once more.

Sakura dropped onto the sofa, feeling exhausted despite the hours of sleep. Her eyes stared at the boxes of food, left so neatly on the old table, and tears sprang to her eyes.

Oh, Ikkaku. . .

She sighed, scrubbing angrily at her face, and cursing herself for her weakness. Yumichika always hated it when she grew emotional. She wasn't sure whether it embarrassed him or whether the show of weakness merely disgusted him, but she'd be damned if she'd let him down now.

She strode purposefully into the bathroom and stripped down. Gingerly, she explored the wound on her side. Urahara had neatly patched up the wound and she knew it would heal quickly. The bleeding had stopped, which was a good sign. Knowing that she couldn't risk a shower lest she get water in the wound, she scrubbed down as best she could with hot water and a cotton cloth, before re-wrapping the bandage on her arm. That wound, at least, was nothing to worry about, and even the pain was duller now.

Somewhat refreshed, and a lot more determined, Sakura pulled back her long white hair into a rough bun, secured it with a strip of cloth, and dressed in tight black leggings and a loose green jumper. Barefoot, she padded back out and into Yumichika's room, surprised to find him awake.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" She asked as she perched carefully on the side of his bed.

"Like hell." His throat sounded raw, and Sakura reached to get him more water. He drank greedily this time, looking drained and weak when he finally settled his head back on the pillows. Silky strands of hair fell into his face, and Sakura brushed them gently aside. He frowned.

"Why are you doing this?"

She blinked, eyes widening in the dim light of the room.

"What?"

"Why are you here, helping me?" He didn't look at her; his eye fixed on a point upon the ceiling.

Realisation dawned.

"Oh, they've locked down the gate. No one is allowed through until they figure out what the Arrancar are up to. And they won't unseal my powers, either, so here we are, making the best of a shitty situation."

Yumichika carried on frowning.

"I know that. I heard."

"Oh." Sakura tilted her head and stared down at her friend. "Then I don't understand. . ."

"I'm speaking plainly, aren't I?" Yumichika snapped, good eye flashing, making Sakura draw back slightly. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because. . . Because you're my friend, Yumichika."

The elegant Shinigami snorted, a sound Sakura had never heard him make before. It was far too unrefined for such a gentleman.

"It's Ikkaku that you truly care for."

Sakura opened her mouth to speak then closed it, her mind racing. She had no idea where Yumichika was going with this, and his words stung, hurting enough to make her angry.

"Goddammit, Ayasegawa! You think I don't care about you? After all the time we've spent together? You think I just follow you around because of Ikkaku? Well, you're a damned fool, and I thought better of you!"

She stood, towering over his prone form, her hands bunched into fists. This was better; this she understood. Anger. Fighting.

Now Yumichika looked at her directly.

"Do you love him?"

The question was so unexpected that it was like taking the wind out of her sails. Sakura deflated, sitting back down on the bed and looking down at her friend. Even with that livid wound across his face, he was still elegant, still beautiful. It made her chest ache.

"Why do you ask?"

"Do you?"

She couldn't read his expression in the dim light, and she didn't have an answer for him. Silence filled the room, broken after a painful stretch of time by a soft sigh from Yumichika.

"It's going to scar, isn't it?" The sudden change of subject once more made her pause. Finally, she rallied.

"I don't know, Yumi."

"I hate it when you call me that." His voice was sullen, sounding enough like his old self that Sakura smiled, forgetting the awkwardness of before.

"You're such a brat."

He didn't respond, turning his face away and staring out of the small window perched high on the wall. Sakura kept forgetting to cover it and through the pale glass they could see the dark night sky and the thin twinkle of stars. In the soft light, Sakura studied her friend's face and knew, suddenly, that he was afraid.

She reached out and gently brushed his cheek before resting her hand on his own.

"It's okay to be afraid sometimes." Her voice was soft.

Yumichika didn't look at her, just kept staring at those stars.

"How did you ever join the 11th Division, Takahashi? You're so disgustingly sentimental and weak."

His words hit her like a blow, finding all those little doubts she had about herself and encouraging them to grow. She wanted to strike him; wanted to scream, wanted to run out into the night and find someone to pummel until her rage was burning sharp and white hot and she could free her power and feel that sweet release. She stared down at his pale face, that ugly star, and she really looked at her friend.

Slowly, her shoulders eased and the tension in her body abated. Carefully, she slid into the bed beside him and put one arm around his body. Her face was pressed against his bare shoulder, and when she spoke, her lips brushed his feverishly hot skin.

"I don't care what you say, Yumichika. I am not going anywhere until you're better. You can insult me all you want but it will take more than that to make this 11th Division member run away."

He did not respond. She held on tight.