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This Was No Accident
WHO: Orihime Inoue, Open
WHAT: Orihime is taking some time at the hospital to recover from the injuries she sustained, both physically and emotionally
WHEN: October 7th, Evening - October 9th
WHERE: Genessia City Hospital
WARNINGS: Mention of psychological manipulation and drugging
Was this real?
It bothered her that this was the first coherent thought that swam to the forefront of her consciousness as she gazed through her lashes at the speckled ceiling. It was blurry. She blinked. Less blurry.
She closed her eyes.
The air was sharp with the smell of antiseptic instead of moist earth and old dust. So...probably real. She trusted her keen sense of smell more than her eyes and ears. The IV that dribbled into her vein was probably real too, and she kind of hated it. She wanted to eat something real, like a hot dog overflowing with fixings, or a giant bowl of noodles with all kinds of vegetables and thin cuts of beef... Anything that wasn't a sugar-free protein drink. The saccharine sweetness of her meager meals still clung to the roof and sides of her mouth. She hated that too.
Her fingers twitched, one by one, to make sure she could still move them. Then she curled her toes. A thin sheet and a terry cloth blanket covered her legs to keep them warm, but there were still goosebumps on her arms. The basement where she'd been kept had been so cold for so long, she'd almost embraced the warmth of the flames when they began eating away at her prison...and then...
...then...?
She remembered familiar faces. Bulla. Bakugou. There were others too, weren't there? ...or had she imagined them...?
Orihime's closed eyes tightened further as her mouth pressed into a hard, thin line. She wasn't sure. They'd kept her so off balance with the inconsistent drugging, to put her under, to warp her grasp of reality into something tentative, she hadn't been able to tell when she was dreaming or not. Her fingernails bit into the thin mattress of the hospital bed as she grit her teeth and forced her eyes to open. She didn't want to fall asleep again and sink under that hazy blackness, because she wasn't sure when she'd come up for air again, or what she'd see.
Her head lolled to the side on her pillow, her bleary gaze searching for the communicator she didn't have. Either it hadn't been recovered, or the doctors just thought it best to keep the device away from her for the time being. So she looked to the window, suddenly desperate for sunlight, but all that she saw was a blank, neutral wall. She was probably placed in one of the inner hospital rooms, then.
She let her head sink back with a quiet sigh. At least she was clean. They must have washed her up and shampooed the dirt and grease from her hair while she was out of it. That was kind of nice. Still, she kept looking at the wall, as if doing so might somehow open a magic portal to the outside world. It failed, of course.
"...I miss windows..." Orihime murmured tiredly.
WHAT: Orihime is taking some time at the hospital to recover from the injuries she sustained, both physically and emotionally
WHEN: October 7th, Evening - October 9th
WHERE: Genessia City Hospital
WARNINGS: Mention of psychological manipulation and drugging
Was this real?
It bothered her that this was the first coherent thought that swam to the forefront of her consciousness as she gazed through her lashes at the speckled ceiling. It was blurry. She blinked. Less blurry.
She closed her eyes.
The air was sharp with the smell of antiseptic instead of moist earth and old dust. So...probably real. She trusted her keen sense of smell more than her eyes and ears. The IV that dribbled into her vein was probably real too, and she kind of hated it. She wanted to eat something real, like a hot dog overflowing with fixings, or a giant bowl of noodles with all kinds of vegetables and thin cuts of beef... Anything that wasn't a sugar-free protein drink. The saccharine sweetness of her meager meals still clung to the roof and sides of her mouth. She hated that too.
Her fingers twitched, one by one, to make sure she could still move them. Then she curled her toes. A thin sheet and a terry cloth blanket covered her legs to keep them warm, but there were still goosebumps on her arms. The basement where she'd been kept had been so cold for so long, she'd almost embraced the warmth of the flames when they began eating away at her prison...and then...
...then...?
She remembered familiar faces. Bulla. Bakugou. There were others too, weren't there? ...or had she imagined them...?
Orihime's closed eyes tightened further as her mouth pressed into a hard, thin line. She wasn't sure. They'd kept her so off balance with the inconsistent drugging, to put her under, to warp her grasp of reality into something tentative, she hadn't been able to tell when she was dreaming or not. Her fingernails bit into the thin mattress of the hospital bed as she grit her teeth and forced her eyes to open. She didn't want to fall asleep again and sink under that hazy blackness, because she wasn't sure when she'd come up for air again, or what she'd see.
Her head lolled to the side on her pillow, her bleary gaze searching for the communicator she didn't have. Either it hadn't been recovered, or the doctors just thought it best to keep the device away from her for the time being. So she looked to the window, suddenly desperate for sunlight, but all that she saw was a blank, neutral wall. She was probably placed in one of the inner hospital rooms, then.
She let her head sink back with a quiet sigh. At least she was clean. They must have washed her up and shampooed the dirt and grease from her hair while she was out of it. That was kind of nice. Still, she kept looking at the wall, as if doing so might somehow open a magic portal to the outside world. It failed, of course.
"...I miss windows..." Orihime murmured tiredly.
October 7th
Pajamas, clean underwear, socks, shoes and a change of clothing she could wear when she was released from the hospital all came from Orihime's apartment. Bulla also brought her deodorant, toothbrush and some toothpaste. While she doubted the hospital's shampoo and soap would be particularly great, they might have rules about fragrances. The rest of the supplies Bulla bought included coconut water, some fresh fruit, and a pre-made salad from the grocery store. She didn't know exactly what was good for someone who'd had little to eat, but given how much doctors talked about getting enough fruit and vegetable servings, she felt it couldn't hurt.
The final thing she got was a book. Bulla had no idea if Orihime would like it or not, but it was fiction, romantic comedy and written by a woman. Supposedly a best-seller, so she sincerely hoped it would entertain her friend rather than being a story her friend felt obligated to force herself to read because it was a gift.
Despite the door being wide open, Bulla announced her presence with a light knock to the door and a slight flare of her ki.
"I'd punch a hole in the wall to make a window for you, but I think the hospital staff might object."
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"Bulla-chan!"
The ki flare was almost like a warm hug for her soul. It was bright and familiar, and she remembered feeling it burn like a beacon when she was lying on the basement floor. It gave her hope, and that had been missing from her for a long time.
She laughed at her joke, though it was forcefully subdued. Her lungs were tender from her previous violent coughing fits, and it hurt a little, but it was absolutely worth it. She needed a bit of comedy in her life.
"You didn't get hurt...? I remember you had the roof..." At least, she thought she remembered that. Maybe she was just remembering Bulla's testimony of the arcade when Shigaraki made it collapse.
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"Anyway, I brought you some of your stuff, some fruit, coconut water, a salad, and a book. You're probably less likely to have the hospital staff confiscate the food I brought if I brought in all healthy things."
She presented Orihime's things first, laying out the clean clothing piece by piece on the bed beside her friend before moving on to the toiletries.
"Maybe we can go for a walk to a part of the hospital with a window? It's probably good for you to get up for a short walk to stretch your legs."
Not to mention, she thought it would be good for her friend's mental state to be allowed some freedom after her ordeal. To that end, Bulla didn't particularly care if it was allowed or not, so long as it benefitted her friend. It wasn't like she was suggesting that Orihime run a marathon, or even that she leave the hospital.
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But what she really wanted, and knew she couldn't have, was that salad. It was the one thing that wasn't sweet and she wanted it yesterday.
Instead she reached for the coconut water with a tired but grateful smile. Her throat was dry, and water sounded amazing. "You're so nice. You really thought of everything." Her fingers were shaking as she struggled with the cap of the water bottle. It should have been easy for her, but here she was, grunting, failing, and finally sighing in defeat as she passed it to her half-Saiyan friend. She really was weak right now, in so many ways.
Her head perked up a little at the offer of a walk. "Can we...? What do we do with the...the..." She looked up at the IV machine and just pointed at it. Bulla probably knew what she meant. "Can we take it with us?"
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He blinks at Orihime slowly, registering what he's seeing before his eyes go bright and his face relaxes -- a not-smile reserved just for Orihime.
"Good to see you awake." His voice is still a little husky from sleep. 47 stretches his other arm, revealing the small bunch of colorful flowers from his nursery held in his hand.
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...
Her eyes moved to the flowers, but she didn't take them just yet. Instead she was oddly quiet and subdued, looking at her knees for a long, long moment.
"...Were you there?" she asked. Her voice was hoarse and stuck in her throat, but she didn't try to clear it. "For the first fire...I saw...but I didn't see you..."
The words were difficult to form. Her faith and trust had been shaken in a lot of her friends, and she hadn't seen the ex-agent. But she also knew, from what he'd told her, that he usually operated in a way that avoided the public eye.
Even so, the things she'd been told had left a deep, ugly scar of doubt in her soul. For most anyone else, she wouldn't have even bothered to ask, but Ford had supported her whenever she was silently in need. She couldn't imagine he was one of those who'd written her off as someone else's problem.
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"...I was." He looks up, and his eyes meet hers. "I wish I could have done more." Wishes she could have been rescued sooner. Wishes he'd just abandoned everything to look for her with his full waking hours... maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe she wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed right now, body and mind traumatized.
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"Don't...don't wish for that. I'm sorry." Her free hand came up to rub at her face, as if she could wash away the shame of questioning his friendship. "You tried to save me. That's enough. Really...it's enough." She rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm. "I'm still trying to figure out what happened...which things they said were true, which things weren't. It's not a good excuse, I know. But...But I..."
For a moment she couldn't speak. She didn't know how to say it the way she really meant it, but she thought she could say it the way he needed to hear. "It's unfair to blame the good guys for the bad things someone else does. The things that happened, the people who died...that was because of them. Not you."
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Non-explicit reference to gore
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October 9th
On the last day, Ayame finally had time to visit even a bit. Seeing Orihime stare at the wall, Ayame creates a portal to the outside world and waiting a moment before revealing herself to be leaning against the door frame with her hands in front of her, and clad in her combat uniform. ]
Good morning.
[ She says with a slight curl of her lips, though her concern couldn't be hidden in those eyes. She's not very good at comforting people through wise words and gestures, so she figured to leave that to Orihime's other friends who could do that better. Her goal is to help Orihime get resettled, and offer her some security. This is about the only time Ayame feels that her great amount of power can be really useful ]
I heard whispers in the hall that they're about ready to send you home, is this true?
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[Which is now a window.]
[Orihime blinks, surprised, and for a moment her breathing quickens and her complexion goes pale. But then she hears Ayame's voice and her head whips around. Her tense shoulders relax, then slump as she exhales. Thank goodness, she's not hallucinating again...]
Oh, good morning, Ayame-san.
[To answer her question, Orihime inclines her head. The hospital gown is neatly folded at the foot of the bed and she's changed into the clothes that Bulla brought her. She's eager to return to the bakery and make forty cakes just to get into a familiar routine again that won't make her question her sanity for a while.]
Mm. They just ran the last tests, so as soon as they get the results back from the lab, I'm free to leave. They just want to make sure they didn't miss anything.
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[ The portal leads to the soothing sight of the Garden Park, with the sounds of laughter from visitors. But now that Orihime's attention is focused on her, Ayame sighs in relief and closes the portal with a thought as she steps closer towards her friend ]
Since I'm here and free for the rest of the day, I would escort you to wherever you wish to go. I don't blame you for not wanting to be alone at home today.
[ That's probably the last thing Orihime wants, she thought. ]
And I hope you'll be pleased to know that I've helped keep Cake Town in order during your absence.
[ Feeling like it's the least she could do since she has a key to the place, and everyone else is busy rescuing Orihime. ]
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[That surprises her. But the surprise changes quickly into a little smile. That was actually really nice of Ayame, and thoughtful too. She holds her hands together in her lap, looking down at them for a moment. The past few days of rest have been good for her, and the visitors have softened the sharp, angry bitterness that's been roiling inside of her for a while.]
Thank you. I wasn't sure what would happen with it. I know it's not a high priority thing but I'm happy it was taken care of when I wasn't here.
[But where does she want to go? Home actually sounded really good to her, but she doesn't want to turn down Ayame's attempt to be kind. Just being outside would be nice.]
[Then she realizes what she wants more than anything.]
I want...to go to a buffet...
[It's probably childish, but she wants to eat, and make up for all the meals she missed.]
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October 8th
"Hello."
She speaks softly. She's not sure what happened exactly but she feels that there is more that what she knows. There's so many questions she'd like to ask Orihime and yet,... she looks like she's still so tired. Maybe she should let her rest?
"I'm sorry... there's no window here. Would you like me to ask for you to be moved to a different room?"
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"Oh...no, that's okay. There's probably a reason why they picked this room." She'd been in darkness for a long time, so the sunlight might have hurt her eyes. Or maybe, if it was true that a pendant user really was responsible for orchestrating Orihime's abduction, it was safer to keep her away from windows where she might be spotted and attacked again.
In short, she trusted the hospital staff to make the right decisions for her health.
"Anou...you need information, right, Mavis-chan...?"
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Then, she looks slightly surprised by the red haired girl's question. Not so groggy, after all. Quite the opposite, Orihime sounds pretty lucid. She nods again.
"Only if you feel it's okay for you to talk about it. You must still feel pretty shaken, Orihime."
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"...A little," she confessed. "I'll be okay, though. And I can talk about what I remember, but honestly, a lot of my memories are hazy."
Which was true. She did need some time to figure out what was real and what wasn't, and that was as good an excuse as any not to talk about the things they'd done to crush her spirits.
"I hope that's okay."
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In one hand, Faye held a bag that was full of snacks. Not the usual kind of hospital gifts of fruit, but all sorts of sweet and sugary and salty goodness for Orihime to binge on instead. Tucked into her arm was a fox plush that could also double as a pillow, the orange colour of the fur almost identical to the colour of Orihime's hair.
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"Faye-san!" She even sat up, finding that the incline button of her bed was working too slowly for her liking.
"Are you okay? I wasn't sure if you were there when the fire happened, but...you seem okay...are you okay?"
Then she spotted the fox plush. "...c-cute..."
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Faye shyly approached the bed, unable to answer her or look her in the eye. She put the bag of snacks by the bed and held out the fox plush for Orihime, still looking at her feet. "You're okay... That's - the most important thing." Faye coughed, clearing her throat, eyes searching Orihime's body for signs of harm, still not looking at her face. She wasn't there, and she is full of guilt for it.
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When she's conscious long enough to have visitors, Konoka would burst in with flowers. Alas, while Konoka had seen the awful video that cast doubt on her survival, it had been long after the fact. Everglade's nasty claws had kept her captive during the actual rescue.
Wanting to make up for it, the brunette had come in with a vase of flowers, setting them by her side. "I figured you could use a little cheering up! Oh, thank goodness you survived!" Konoka looked like she wanted to cry and hug her, only the state of her hospice kept her from just pouncing on her with a hug regardless. She settled for gently grabbing her hand.
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"Y-yeah...! Ha ha, me too!"
But the others...the ones who lured her there...
Her dipping smile faded for just an instant before she was able to pull herself together. The last thing she wanted to do was cause any further worry and stress for those who'd undergone enough in the past...week? Weeks? So she squeezed the girl's fingers. "Don't worry. I'm okay. They're just putting some nutrients back in my body," she pointed at the IV, "and then I'll be good to go. Other than that I'm healthy! What about you?"
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The fact that Orihime could still squeeze her fingers was a good sign. "I have to confess, I wish I could have done more for you, even now. But there's just some things that healing magic can't fix on its own," Konoka admitted finally. "Still, one of the big things I learned was knowing that."
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10/07
His eyes remain sharply gazing at her, alert and aware, until he sees her blink. As if reading her mind, he reaches to put his hands on her arm, his palms warm and rough.
"Fire Hair..."
He stands up, reluctantly, and moves to the wall.
"Hang on. I'll make a window."
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Her despair seems so distant now, even if her fatigue isn't chased away so easily. It's enough to coax a tired but very genuine smile from her. His hands feel real, every callous and rough spot familiar to her. "Murder-sama." She missed hearing him call her 'Fire Hair.' She missed him.
Orihime's gaze remains mild as he stands to his feet, following him until he reaches the wall.
He'll make a...
!
"No, don't! Ha ha ha ha!" Holy crap, even after all of that, he could make her laugh. It was so unexpected, she didn't think she would. Not this soon, anyway! But she's pretty sure he would have actually done it without hesitation, and weird and disastrous as that would have been? She was definitely a little flattered.
Her laughter dovetails into a couple of hoarse coughs against her fist, then turns to quiet little giggles. As long as he was here, she didn't think she'd look out a window very much anyway.
...Wait, they were dating! She could actually say sappy things like that out loud!
"I'd rather look at you than a window anyway. And you're really warm, better than sunshine!" Her free hand gives the bedside a little pat to summon him back. She'll even wriggle herself to one side to make room for him to sit if there isn't a chair. "Anou...how are your eyes? Are they still sensitive to bright light?"
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"But you said you missed windows."
Once he's composed enough, he sits back down on the hospital bed, but she basically just implied she was cold, and he misses her, so fuck it, he drops down to halfway lie beside her. He blinks at her, eyes half-lidded, and scoffs softly.
"They've adjusted by now. Don't worry about me, dumbass..." Without warning, an arm goes up to try and hold her, avoiding any wires. "This place sucks. Worry about getting out of here so you can be in ass-kicking shape."
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