But sometimes, enough is not really enough. Because although my curiosity might be sated, there are parts of me that ask for more, crave more. This I learn about a month before graduation.
It happens unexpectedly. It comes just like the rain did: not in the forecast and without warning. Or maybe it happens because of the rain. Maybe it happens for no reason at all. But it happens.
The day starts the same: bright. Everything has been so bright in every way. No rain in the real world and no rain in my inner world. It has been peaceful and bright. And when I look into the mirror before heading out, that stranger reflected is no longer tired, nor is he a stranger. He is me. He is a me that belongs to her. A bright and happy me that she owns and controls in such an exclusive and complete way—that's probably how it happens.
Or maybe it's that realization. That realization that she is not just a friend and not just a girlfriend. That she is so much more to me. Maybe that is it.
But it doesn't happen immediately. It only begins when the rain does, and the rain only starts after I come to pick her up from work.
I get to the bakery a bit early, so I take a seat and wait for her shift to end. She notices me, but the teasing that she gets from her coworkers can be quite excessive, so she doesn't skip over to me or wave enthusiastically like she would normally; she just gives me a small smile. Still, that gesture is enough to incite menacing glances from the male patrons of the store, but that's okay. I've also gotten used to the jealous-filled glares and envious snide remarks whispered under their breaths. I think getting accumulated to it is something that comes with the territory of dating someone who is so likeable and unearthly.
And while I have gotten used to the insults, she has gotten used to the way I stare at her when she's working. She used to be shy about it when she noticed how my undivided attention was on her. She would constantly make mistakes or blush and silently whine for me to look away. Now, she just feels my eyes on her, and she's calm. Sure, sometimes her face will redden randomly, but for the most part, she is used to me.
If I could help it, I would, but like a dam trying to contain a flood, I can't. She is both too devastatingly beautiful and entertainingly entrancing that I can't help but gaze at her. And the best part about it is that I am no longer hiding my feelings or embarrassed or oblivious to them that I can openly admire her and luckily, get her admiration in return.
This is how I miss when the rain starts. This is how I miss the change.
She is quick to finish cleaning, quick to say her goodbyes, quick to skip to my side as I wait by the door, quick to slip her hand into mine.
And then everything happens so fast.
One second we are standing inside her store, staring at the onslaught of rain that is pouring down. The next second, we are outside, sprinting in the direction of her apartment. She's pulling me along, laughing as the rain soaks us down to bone. Laughing as if this, getting drenched in cold rain, running through puddles, is so much fun. Grinning as if the rain doesn't bother her or hinder joy.
For the first time in a long time, the rain doesn't bother me. It doesn't hinder my joy. In fact, I enjoy the feel of the cold rain on my face. I enjoy this feeling as I laugh alongside her. Even if it's brief, even if it's fleeting, I enjoy the rain that I hate.
Maybe that's how it happens. The rain, the adrenaline that pumps in our veins as we run, her laughter, her smile. Maybe it's all of it. Maybe it's none of it. Maybe it's just that dam. That pitiful dam. That overflooded dam of want.
But everything slows down as we reach her apartment door.
Her laughs fade as she tries to steady her breathing. Her smile retreats as she stares up into my eyes, as one of her hands reaches to push some of my hair that clings to my forehead aside. My breath catches in my throat as I feel her hand on my neck. My heart stills as I notice just how wet we are, as I notice just how her clothes cling to her.
And everything just stops.
And this is where it happens. When enough is not really enough.
Who makes the first move, I couldn't tell. Couldn't care. All I know is that her lips are warm, so much warmer than ever before. I know that her mouth, her tongue is warmer. Hot. Her body pressed against the door, her body pressed against mine nearly scalds me, and yet, I pull her closer. My hands, one in her hair, the other clutching at her back, clutching at the fabric shake from the heat. One of her hands burns my face. The other is somewhere else. I don't where, but we are suddenly in her apartment. Suddenly, the buttons of her shirt are scattered on the floor. Suddenly, my lips are at her neck. Suddenly, she's panting, moaning, wrapping her leg around me, pulling me closer and closer. Suddenly, it's becoming too hot, scorching hot, unbearably hot! But I want more. I need more! And she groans at my touch, shudders at it, whimpers at it! And I can't stop as my hands grab at her exposed stomach, my hips holding her up against the wall, pining her against the wall. And I can't stop even though it's so hot! Too hot! Painfully hot!
KNOCK, KNOCK!
In the back of my mind, I hear something, but she starts squirming or moving or whatever, and I catch her lips to smother a moan of my own.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
Again, some noise, but she begins pulling on my shirt as if to pull it off, and the plea that leaps off her tongue sends me into overdrive, into a blazing heat. Sends my heart into my throat, my hands to her hips, my lips lower and lower to her…
"Inoue-san! Open up, Inoue-san~"
We break apart. She slides down the wall with flushed cheeks. Her eyes lock with mine, and in that heated gaze, I subconsciously inch toward her, wanting to feel her again, wanting more. Wanti—
"Inoue-san~~"
My head snaps towards the door and then back to her. She tries to stand, but she can't. I go to help her, but when my hand grabs her, that heat spreads again, and that haze takes over and…
"Open up, Kurosaki-san! Now!"
The voice loses all the lightness and humor it once had, and the gravitas of his tone shocks me out of the spell long enough for me to follow his directions. But that ache, that pain remains. Even as I open the door a crack to reveal a very stoic Urahara-san.
"Evening, Kurosaki-san! What a surprise to see you here!" He exclaims with his usual jovial tone despite the seriousness in his eyes. "But since I have you, could you help me with something? It's very important, and it cannot wait." His words leave no room for arguing, so I follow him out the door.
Without her in the room, without her scent surrounding me, intoxicating me, without her in my line of sight, in my reach, I can breathe again. I can think again. That pain, that heat also lessens the more I stand in the cooling rain.
"This cannot happen again, Kurosaki-san."
I squint, trying to see his expression in the dark and through the rain, but all I can see is him leaning against the railing, his umbrella blocking his face.
"What do you mean?"
"I have warned you of this. Warned you what strong emotions will cause for you and others."
"I don't," I begin.
"It is only for the sake of Inoue-san's dignity that I did not barge in there, but if you had not heeded my call, I would have broken the door down, regardless of what I would have seen. Do you know why?"
I rake my brain to try to find why he would go to such lengths, and it becomes clear when that burn from earlier lingers under my skin.
"Oh."
"You are lucky that she is accustomed to your reiatsu. If she were a normal human, she would have crumbled under the weight of it."
You are also lucky that she was unconsciously negating the damaging effects of your reiatsu with her own. It was not enough to stop the increase of hollows nor the harmful pressure humans felt, but it was enough to keep you under the radar. Barely."
I look down, ashamed of how careless I was. But I did not even think that this could happen. She and I haven't pursued…this much physical contact before. Our kisses were always short, chaste. Our touches even more brief. It was never like this. Not even close. And today shouldn't have been like this, either, but it just happened. And even though I am ashamed that it happened, I cannot honestly say that I regret that it did.
I look up in confusion.
"Earlier, you said—"
"That it cannot happen again. Not until I can find a way to limit the way your spiritual pressure."
"But—"
He interrupts me again.
"I am sorry, Kurosaki-san, but this is how it has to be for now. I understand it will be difficult, but I am sure that you understand," he says unapologetically.
I frown at that.
"And I am sure she will understand as well. When you tell her, of course." Finally, his sounds back to his normal self.
"Well, I shall take my leave now. Do give my best to Inoue-san. I would stop in to say hello, but I am afraid you wouldn't like that, would you?"
I give a glare just at the thought of it. He laughs.
"It's quite scary, isn't it?"
"What I would do to you if you walked into her apartment?"
He chuckles.
"Yes, but that is not what I was referring to. I was referring to how scary she is. But you know that best, don't you?
It takes me a second to fully comprehend what he means.
"I do."
"Good. Let's not forget," he advises before disappearing.
I turn around before I place my forehead against her door.
Forget? How could I possibly? How I could I possibly forget that despite how unstable I am, she is the reason for it, the catalyst? That's how dangerous she really is. Because without even knowing it or even trying, she has that unique ability to render me absolutely powerless, to make me uncontrollably powerful.
I gulp.
Scary is an understatement.