She awoke to the sound of Yumichika calling out, and shot out of sleep and up from the sofa in one move. She was by his side in an instant.
He was dripping with sweat and shivering violently. When she touched his skin, it was burning hot. Tendrils of his dark hair were stuck to his forehead, and he was muttering under his breath, though his eyes were squeezed shut. Sometimes he'd yell out, and that was what had awakened her.
She ran to the kitchen, throwing open the small freezer she kept by the sink and dumping all the ice cubes into a bowl, which she then filled with cold water. She threw some cotton cloths into the mix and rushed back to Yumichika's room, switching on the nearest lamp. Wringing out a cloth, she wiped it gently across his forehead. He whimpered and his eyes opened; the wounded right eye was badly swollen and barely visible beneath the puffy, bruised lid.
"Yumichika? Can you hear me?" She leant over him, running the cold cloth over his face gently. He blinked but didn't respond. His good eye was glassy and staring over her shoulder, unseeing. She cursed beneath her breath.
"Listen, Yumichika, I'm going to have to move you into a sitting position so that I can wipe you down. The cold water will help lower your temperature."
He didn't respond, as she'd expected, so she slipped her arms around him without another word and eased him into a sitting position, resting his body against hers so she could leave an arm free to rub the cold cloth over his body. Despite his lean frame, he was surprisingly heavy, and the wound in her own side throbbed painfully as she tried to support him. His head flopped down onto her shoulder, his mouth close enough to her ear that his laboured breathing sounded like a locomotive. Carefully, quickly, she wetted the cloth with ice water and wiped it down his back. Unsurprisingly, his shivers increased, and he moaned softly.
"I know, I know." She murmured, anxiety tightening her chest. "But I have to get your temperature down. I'm sorry, Yumi."
She continued to wipe him down, almost expecting the cold water to sizzle as it touched his skin. He was so hot that she was sweating just from being so close to him. When his back and sides were dripping lightly with water, she gently lowered him back and wiped his chest and stomach. When she had finished, she collected the other cloth from the bowl, wrung it out almost entirely, and then placed it gently on his forehead. She pulled back the bed-sheets so that he was entirely exposed, only his legs covered in what was left of his Shinigami uniform.
Rummaging through one of the bags Urahara had given to her, Sakura removed a bottle of pills that should help with the fever and sat on the bed. She shook Yumichika's shoulder gently, trying to wake him.
"Yumi? Yumi, can you hear me? Wake up."
His eyelids fluttered and then he was looking at her, and this time she knew he could hear her.
"Hey, you." Her voice was soft. "I need you to take some pills now, okay? They'll help with the fever." He nodded, his teeth chattering so hard from the shivering that he couldn't speak. Carefully, Sakura placed the pills in his mouth, lifting his head with one hand whilst holding the glass of water to his lips with the other. He took some water, swallowed painfully, coughed, sipped the water again and fell back, eyes closing.
Sakura stared down at him, unsure of what to do now that she had exhausted all her options. She knew the medicine would help but this fever could only mean that his wound was infected. There was nothing she could do about that, right now. She was forced merely to treat his symptoms as best she could. As she watched him, shivering on the bed, looking so much thinner and smaller than she remembered him, fear gripped her. What if he died, here in this grubby apartment in the human world? It wasn't a death fit for such a man.
Sitting back on the bed, she took his hand in her own and watched him in silence until his shivers subsided. Sometimes he'd wake, and she'd offer him water, then he'd return to his feverish sleep. Only when his body had cooled enough did she cover him once more in a thin sheet. He was paler than ever and the scar on his face stood out garishly.
Sakura looked out the window and realised it was growing dark once more. She realised with a jolt that an entire day had passed. Looking down at Yumichika, she wondered how much longer he could hold on. As if sensing her gaze, he stirred and his eyes opened. The pale blue depths fixed on her face.
"Sakura." His voice was soft, all traces of its usual arrogance and pride totally absent.
She swallowed, leaning over him.
"Hey, you. How are you feeling?"
"A little better. Not so hot, anyway."
"Yeah, your fever finally dropped a few hours ago. You've been sleeping all day."
"Where's Ikkaku?"
Sakura frowned. "I don't really know. I think Hitsugaya has him doing something. Or he could be sulking. You know what he's like when he can't just fight his problems away."
Yumichika tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.
"I've known him for so long, and he hasn't changed at all."
Sakura smiled a little wanly. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Both."
She chuckled softly, and brushed a strand of damp hair from off his face. He grimaced.
"How do I look? It's bad isn't it?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "You're sick. What does it matter?"
"It matters to me." His voice was dull but Sakura looked at him sharply.
"You really are a narcissist, Ayasegawa. What does beauty matter now?"
"Beauty always matters." His gaze had drifted to the window but he looked up into her face now, oddly intent.
"You're beautiful." He almost whispered the words, but she heard them and stiffened slightly.
"I don't. . Thank you." She rallied. "No match for you, of course."
He didn't respond to her gentle joking, only continued to stare at her with an expression so intent and serious that it made her uncomfortable.
"You should be proud of your beauty, Sakura."
"What does it matter?" Exasperation laced her words.
"How could beauty not matter in a world filled with such ugliness?"
Sakura stared down at her friend in shock. He'd always been so brusque, so dripping with arrogance and condescension. His narcissism was a joke amongst the squad. Everyone knew he took himself too seriously, and yet here he was, lying here, possibly dying, and he comes out with something like that?
Sakura shook herself mentally and this time her smile was real.
"I suppose you're right."
"Of course I'm right."
Ahh, now that was more like the Yumichika she knew.
His handsome faced creased in a pained grimace, and Sakura leaned over him.
"Are you okay?"
"I think," his breathing was laboured, "I think I'm going to sleep for a while." His eyes slid closed and he seemed to slump back into the pillow. She shook him gently but he was clearly unconscious.
Worried, scared, she went into the other room, picked up the headset Ikkaku had left her, slipped it on and then settled into the chair beside Yumichika's bed.
"You'd better call soon, Ikkaku." She muttered beneath her breath, before staring out the window at the night sky.
Hours passed. Sakura continued her vigil in Yumichika's room, her eyes staring unseeing out of the window; only Yumichika's laboured breathing and the hum of nocturnal insects breaking the silence.
Her headset crackled just as the door to the apartment banged open. Captain Hitsugaya's calm voice filled her head.
"Madarame is on his way to collect you and Ayasegawa. The gate is open. You're cleared to return to Soul Society."
"Thank you, sir!"
Sakura jumped up just as Ikkaku rushed into the room, picking up Yumichika as if the man weighed nothing. His head rolled back and he was limp in Ikkaku's grip. Sakura pressed a hand to his forehead and cursed under her breath.
"His fever's back. We have to be quick."
Ikkaku nodded and disappeared in a blur. Unable to flash-step with her powers sealed, Sakura ran as fast as she could for the gate. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto were both waiting for them. Their expressions were sombre in the low light.
As the gate to Soul Society appeared before them and began to open, Ikkaku stepped forwards but Hitsugaya laid a firm hand on the larger man's arm.
"Give him to Sakura. You must remain here."
Ikkaku glared down at the petite Captain and for one awful moment, Sakura was convinced he was going to hit him. Instead, he nodded stiffly and shook his wounded friend.
"Hey! Yumichika! Wake up. I need you to stand, you lazy ass."
Yumichika stirred, and when Ikkaku lowered his feet to the ground, he managed to stay upright. Sakura quickly grabbed one of his arms and laced it around her shoulders, supporting his weight as best she could. He leaned heavily on her, his breath ragged, his body wrecked with tremors. She was so intent on getting him home, on getting him treatment, that she stepped into the gate with him without a word of thanks to the others, or even a backwards glance.
The world flashed white and was filled with the dizzy sensation of impossible speed, and then she was standing on the green grass of one of Sereitei's many courtyards. Squad 4, who she had expected to be waiting for them, were no where in sight.
She tapped her head communicator and barked into it.
"This is Takahashi. Where the hell is Squad 4?"
"On their way." A cool voice intoned.
"I have a wounded man here, dammit! You should already be here!"
The device fell silent and she cursed under her breath before lowering Yumichika carefully to the ground. He was barely moving at all now and looked so frail that, with his delicate features and pale skin, he appeared almost skeletal. Sakura cursed again and tapped her headset.
"Father? Are you there?"
When Captain Ukitake's voice flooded into her earpiece, Sakura felt a wave of relief rush through her.
"Sakura, are you okay?"
"Fine, fine. Listen, I need my seal lifted. Right now."
There was a pause.
"It's done."
An odd sensation filled Sakura's body, as if tight bonds had wrapped around her suddenly only to release in one sweet instant. She felt light, free, strong. Dropping to her knees beside her friend on the grass, she concentrated, eyes closing. She thought about all her confusion in the past few days; all the uncertainty, fear, anger, impotent rage. She focused it all until it was a burning white hot glow in her chest and that familiar sense of expansion and pressure grew inside her. She steadied herself, resting her hands on either side of Yumichika's infected wound, and focusing on letting her power flow down her arms like water; imagining it pooling into her fingertips. A gentle glow surrounded her hands and slowly grew to encompass Yumichika's wound.
His breathing steadied whilst hers grew ragged and uneven. The red, puckered, ruined flesh began to seal together, smoothing down into even, unmarred skin. When she removed her hands from his body, a fine tremor in her muscles made her entire body tremble. Panting gently, she considered the wounds on his face before resting one hand gently above them.
She concentrated, but nothing happened. Frustrated, her eyes snapped open, only to see a small group of Squad 4 Shinigami rushing towards them with stretchers. One of them, smaller than the others, ran up to her, eyes wide and concerned.
"Miss Takahashi!" Hanataro Yamada, a familiar face, hovered over her. "Let us take over now. You should rest."
Sakura waved him off tiredly. "You know I can handle this Hanataro." But even as she spoke, she swayed off-balance, her movements sluggish, and did not try to stop the other Shinigami who carefully and efficiently moved Yumichika onto a stretcher before whisking him away to the Squad 4 headquarters.
Sakura watched them go, frowning. Hanataro took her arm hesitantly.
"Come with me, Miss Sakura."
"It's just 'Sakura', Hana. How long have I known you?" She muttered, getting to her feet and swaying slightly. "I want to go with Yumichika. Make sure he's okay."
Hanataro's pleasant face creased with concern.
"Let us carry you." He gestured to a group of squad members who had stayed behind and were watching her with wary expressions. She scowled at them.
"I can walk." She strode forwards, only to have her legs give beneath her. Blinking dumbly, she knelt on the ground and chuckled softly. "Or maybe not."
She probably would have attempted to rise a second time if Captain Ukitake had not chosen that moment to flash-step to her vicinity and lift her easily. She opened her mouth to protest but then they were moving, and her father's arms were so warm and familiar that exhaustion overcame her and sleep won out.