Chapter 12
Reflection
"I find it quite rude you have been asleep this long. You missed the second challenge, although that may be a good thing as I did not win. Harry saved my sister, and I can never thank him enough for that. He is a good boy, that one, and I dare say he will make a great man."
"Winky is quite worried for Master Ichigo, that she is. But when Master Ichigo wakes up, Winky will be here to help, just like she was before, and like she always will be. Yes, that she will."
"Oh Ichigo, if I hadn't stormed off when Ron and I were arguing, then maybe I could've helped you. I'm so confused on what I should do, I wish you were awake."
"Ichigo, you should've seen the great hall! I mean, bloody hell, you sure did tear the thing to pieces. It's cleaned up now, but I wish I had gotten a picture. Blimey, it looked like a bloody tornado had gone through the place... I just hope you're alright."
"Ron and Hermione are fighting, the third challenge is coming up, and we still have no idea what's causing you to get this sick. I know you're having the same dreams as me, does that mean that I'm causing this? Perhaps, well, maybe if I was stronger, this wouldn't happen."
oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo
When Ichigo awoke, the same heaviness and fatigue that had plagued his body before was there. The difference now was that he still felt the heat of a fever, and he was still unbelievably tired.
"Mr. Kurosaki, you're awake!"
Ichigo turned his head ever so slightly to find the source of the voice. "Ah, Draco, what can I do for you?"
The blonde's face reddened and he fiddled with his fingers. He looked away from Ichigo. "Oh, well, I heard you were sick, so I just wanted to you know... make sure you weren't just lying to get out of work, yes, that's it."
Ichigo smiled and leaned his head back into the pillows, closing his eyes. "Is that so? Well, I'm glad to see you're keeping an eye out for the school. How is your... friend doing? Did he ever speak with his father?"
"I told my friend your advice, but I think he is finding it harder said than done. He doesn't want his father to be disappointed in him for not doing what he wants."
"Does your friend not agree with his father's choices?" Ichigo asked. Draco shook his head.
"Well, if he doesn't agree with what his father wants, or if he thinks it's wrong, then he shouldn't do it. Of course he wants his father to be proud of him, but some choices he'll just have to make on his own. Does that make sense, Draco?"
The young wizard sighed, his gaze downcast. "I suppose so. I'll make sure to let my, erm, friend know. My friend wants to thank you, you know... for helping him."
"Tell your friend he is very welcome, I am always here for him. I'm proud of him for seeking help, and for making his own decisions. If you'll excuse me, I'm rather fatigued, and I'd like to rest now."
Draco nodded and left the infirmary, most likely to head back to the Slytherin Common Room. Ichigo watched him leave, and settled back into the bed. Despite what he said to Draco, the shinigami was tired of sleeping. He really just wanted to get back to work, for things to go back to normal, but Ichigo was a smart man, daresay a wise one, and he knew that wasn't possible.
It was only a matter of time before Madame Pomfrey realized he was awake and began to poke and prod him again. She was much gentler about it this time around, and Ichigo assumed it had to do with him still having a fever. She forced more grueling juice down the back of his throat before she was off again, but not before she gave his pillows a good fluff. She insisted that he rest, and although Ichigo knew she was right, he didn't want to go back to sleep.
He was worried.
Deciding not to dwell too much on the thought of sleep, he chose to retire to his inner world instead. He wasn't surprised to find the flame dwindling in the fireplace, a reflection of his well being. He was more surprised that it wasn't completely doused with the way things were going. Shiro was sitting in an armchair, the low light barely outlining his form in the darkness. His gaze was unfocused, and Zangetsu was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey."
Shiro didn't answer, but Ichigo wasn't expecting him to -- not really. The shinigami sat across from the albino, his gaze refocusing on the small embers in front of them. The room was silent except for the occasional pop of the fire, millennia of companionship in the air, soothing the men more than any words could.
A small white orb caught Ichigo's eye, and he reached up to grab it. He held the small sphere in his grasp, a small warmth enveloped his hands as they cradled it. The man smiled and looked up at the millions of other orbs floating in the infinitely tall room. They looked like stars.
"It's dark."
Ichigo looked back at his companion. "Yes, I suppose it is."
Shiro's grip on the armrest tightened, but his gaze remained unwavered. "No, I mean it. These dreams, this thing, it's dark, real dark. I ain't seen nothing like it," he explained. "Getsu and I, we're two sides of the same coin, see. We're apart of each other but complete opposites, we can never touch yet are constantly connected. Back in Karakura, back before the war, we were both able to draw power of our respected sides."
"After the war, in this new world, my side was missing. That's why I got so weak, there were no hollows, nothing for me to latch onto. Zangetsu, though, he was able to get by with the spiritual energy that still resides in this world. For some reason, now it's the opposite; this dark energy that's surrounding you, surrounding Harry, it's giving me strength and it's taking away from Zangetsu. I just, I don't know what to do. I don't know what it is. Zangetsu's the one that knows all this stuff, not me, and he's not here."
Shiro stood abruptly and began to pace the room, his frustration oozing off of him in waves. Ichigo let go of the sphere and stood up himself, wiping nonexistent dust off his shihakusho. He moved across the floor and placed a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder. Shiro stopped his pacing, but he didn't turn to look at Ichigo.
"We'll figure something out, it'll just take some time."
Shiro sighed, "I know, I just... nevermind, forget it." Ichigo squeezed his shoulder in comfort before he stepped back, retreating from his inner world.
The view of the infirmary came into focus as Ichigo returned, the white curtain having been pulled around him as he meditated. Ichigo left the curtain as it was and turned over in the bed, mentally exhausted and ready to sleep again. As he settled into the sheets, his head buried in the pillows, he heard a shuffling from outside the curtain.
"I was wondering when you were gonna wake up."
Ah, the Moody imposter. What would he want with me? Ichigo heard the distinct sound of a lid unscrewing. Polyjuice potion, no doubt. He has to keep up his visage. If he was using polyjuice, though, that meant that the real Moody was still alive somewhere. Ichigo filed it away for further thought.
"You've had quite the rough year, Mr. Kurosaki, have ya not? This is the second time you've gotten sick, seems to be more than just some illness."
Ichigo rolled over, looking in Moody's general direction behind the cloth. "What are you implying, Professor?"
"I've heard you've been having some nasty nightmares, that true?"
"Everyone has nightmares, Professor, some more than others." Ichigo replied, his voice cold and sharp.
"What are yours about?"
Ichigo scoffed, "I doubt that's any of your concern."
"Nasty ones, I bet," Moody continued, ignoring Ichigo. "They have to be, considering the state of the dining hall. Whew, the amount 'a magic that could've done that. Makes one wonder, ya know, where a little feller like yourself got that from? All that power? These nightmares? This illness? Lotta mysteries surrounding a boy who just showed up outta nowhere. I wonder..."
"I'm not a child, Professor, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't address me as such."
Suddenly, the curtain was pulled aside and Ichigo closed his eyes against the bright light from the windows. He scooted back in his bed and pulled himself upright, not completely sitting up but not laying down either. Ichigo watched as Moody moved towards him. The imposter sat on the edge of the bed, and leaned forward, their faces only inches apart.
"No, yer not a child, are ya? You're something else. I don't know what, quite yet, but I'll be keeping an eye on ya."
'King, tell him he can keep that disgustin' eye of his off us. Thing gives me the creeps.'
Ichigo stared at the man, his gaze unwavering. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Professor."
Moody smirked and straightened up. "I reckon it would. Gotta be careful boy, you never know what's gonna happen." Ichigo scowled as he watched the man stand up and limp away. If he didn't know any better, Ichigo would've thought that was a threat.
Ichigo didn't receive any visitors for the rest of the day, something he was glad for. He watched Madame Pomfrey care for other patients, mostly injuries from quidditch tournaments or jinx's gone wrong. She made her way back to him as the day turned to night.
"Hm, your fever is still a bit high, 38.7. Are you still as stiff and weak as last time?" She asked as she raised his left arm above his head.
"I'm definitely sore, but not stiff, no. As for weak, well, I haven't really tried to get out of bed yet. How long was I asleep?"
"A few weeks, so longer than last time, but your condition wasn't as extreme either. It's definitely a strange ailment, that's for sure. Is your magic working alright? Have you tried using it?" Ichigo shook in response. "Ah, I see. Best to wait then, since you had such an adverse reaction to it last time. It's getting late, so get some rest. I recommend that you try to use the restroom before you do though, not sure how much longer that charm I put on you will last."
Ichigo paled. "Yes, wouldn't want that, would we?" Madame Pomfrey smiled in return and left.
The shinigami pulled the curtains back and turned, placing his feet on the cool stone floor. He tried to put his weight on shaky fee, but found that hadn't been such a good idea. His knees buckled, but he was able to catch himself before he fell. He scanned the hall, his eyes finding a wheelchair a few beds down.
'Ichi, I don't think that's such a good idea. She said not to use your magic.'
'Well, unless you want to deal with me pissing myself in the middle of the night, I don't see an alternative.'
"Ichigo?"
Ichigo turned his head to look back to the doors of the infirmary. "Fleur, what are you doing here at this hour? It's past your curfew."
The young female rushed across the hall and placed her hands on either side of Ichigo's face. "I come here every night to check on you. I just finished my homework, that's why I'm so late, and I just... I am so happy you are awake, I was so worried." She stepped back and smacked the man on the arm.
"Ow, what was that for?"
"For scaring me at the dance like that! You have some nerve. I had no idea what was wrong! We were dancing and it was amazing, I had spent forever getting ready and--"
As Fleur continued to ramble, Ichigo smiled softly. He raised his arms from their grip on the edge of the mattress, repositioning them onto Fleur's shoulders. The skin was warm and soft under his fingers, vibrating from her never-ending chastisement. His sight drifted upwards, focusing on the movements of mouth though he wasn't listening.
Ichigo tugged her impossibly close and sealed her lips with his own, ceasing her beratement. He felt her stiffen under his hold before she melted into the embrace. She eased her weight onto his lap as her arms enveloped his neck, the tips of her fingernails skimming across the skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Fleur's body easily fell into place against his, the closeness they felt during the dance easily returning as if it had never left. The young witch disconnected their lips in favor of leaning her forehead against his.
The heat from Ichigo's fever and their recent activities spread across her face There was a moment of silence as they collected their breath. "I was scared, truly scared, you know. We were so happy, and then you just... froze. I called out to you, I asked you what was wrong, but you didn't answer. Your face, you looked so distraught, helpless even, and that's when things started to break."
"Finally, you spoke," she continued. "You asked for Headmaster and Harry. I watched as your body fell to the floor and you began to convulse. More things broke, some objects began to fly around the room violently. I shouted for someone to get help while I tried to hold you still. You were shaking so much, I was scared you were going to hurt yourself. After an agonizing amount of time, I'm not sure how long, you stilled. Minutes later, Dumbledore rushed in, Harry behind him. Someone had obviously just woken him up, if his bed robes were anything to go by."
"As quickly as they came in, they scurried out with your limp body, no questions, no explanations. I was left there alone, in the middle of a ransacked Great Hall." Ichigo's gaze softened as he watched Fleur's breath hitch and tears stream down her cheeks, but he didn't say anything. "I did not sleep at all that night, I was too worried. I knew you were sick when we met, but to see you have an attack in person, it was haunting. I watched the sunrise and as soon as they allowed it, I came to visit you. If it wasn't for how pale you looked, I would've thought you were sleeping."
Ichigo wiped her eyes with his thumbs and smiled at her. "I'm alright, I'm here." He untwined one of her arms from his neck and placed it over his chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart drumming through her fingers. "See? It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me... I don't suppose I could ask you for a favor, though?"
She looked up at him. "What?"
Ichigo grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "This is a bit embarrassing, but I don't suppose you could bring me that wheelchair from over there, could you? I really have to use the restroom, but I can't walk on my own just yet."
"D'accord," she replied, shifting off of the man's lap where she had been sitting. She straightened out her dress, nonexistent wrinkles smoothing out. The heels of her shoes clicked against the stone floor as she walked towards the other bed. She grabbed the handles of the chair, and Ichigo watched as she wheeled it back to him. "This one?"
Ichigo nodded. "Yes, that's perfect, thank you." He pulled the edge of the seat next to the bed.
"Do you, erm, do you need help? I mean, I haven't..."
"No, that's alright. Thank you, though." Ichigo smiled in reply. He stood up from the bed, this time with the edge of the wheelchair for support, and sank down into the seat. "See? There's no need to worry about me."
Ichigo took his much needed restroom break. He returned to find that in his absence, Fleur had laid down on his bed and was dozing off. Ichigo waited until he was sure she was asleep before he gently pulled her shoes off and quietly pulled the curtain around the bed so she wouldn't be disturbed. The bed was far for both of them to fit, so instead, he heaved himself into the closest bed. He pulled the blanket around himself and went to sleep.