Chapter 15: The Language of Warriors
"Ichigooo Kurosaki-kuuun~!"
Orihime stumbles into Ichigo's room, and it looks like he is at his bed, sound asleep, his breathing deep and steady. She covers her mouth, trying not to giggle. For Orihime, seeing the peaceful sight of him makes her smile softly.
"He must be exhausted from all his studying," she whispers, her hand running through some of the scattered papers all over his desk.
"Oh?"
Orihime seems to have stumbled upon something with her name written on it: Actually, her full name is written several times on a sheet of paper. Orihime tries not to get too excited, but her smile would say otherwise.
On the back of the same sheet of paper, she notices there appears to be an untitled poem, three stanzas, specifically, that appear to be addressed to her:
You must be my enemy
For no other vice could render me this way
In that gentle smile, I crumble
Like how I have fallen apart in the hands of my foe
Each word you speak is an unspoken threat,
And my heart is a fortress under siege,
With every glance, I surrender, surrender,
You have pillaged me of all my loving
Now I stand broken, not by battle's rage,
But by the quiet war done by your gaze.
And though I fight, there's no victory in sight,
For you've claimed my soul in the dead of night.
Orihime's heart flutters in her chest. She sets the paper back down on the desk. Sure, Ichigo was strong, both physically and mentally, and she knew Ichigo was a fan of Shakespeare. But this? This side of him, this vulnerability… It looks like it has always been hidden beneath the surface.
"He really… actually, really, really is good with words," says Orihime to herself.
She glances back at Ichigo, who is still fast asleep. His features are soft in the quietness, his usual scowl replaced by an almost innocent peacefulness.
"... But… I'm not your enemy," she giggles to herself. "But if I was… I'd say you've already won the battle. Ichigo."
